


Meant To Crush Your World

by alnima



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Boys Being Idiots, Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Hate to Love, Insults, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaker Harry, Minor Niall Horan/Harry Styles, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1805224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alnima/pseuds/alnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nick gets home from his walk with Puppy there’s a note taped to his door, a sheet of paper with messy scrawl on it that reads, <em>sorry for nothing. </em> Nick growls, yanking the paper off the door and crumbling it up, throwing it across the hall towards Louis and Harry’s apartment before he disappears into his own, letting Puppy off her leash and getting to work.</p><p>Nick will be damned if he’s going to let an overgrown-monster of a child continue to ruin his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant To Crush Your World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [just_in_cases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_in_cases/gifts).



> Special thank you to [Jen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PornyZiallFeels) for the beta, and the hand holding, and virtually petting my hair as I lost my mind. And also, to all you people out there that like to tag the weirdest shit in the world with Tomlinshaw, thank you. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know or own anyone. This work is my own and it is not featured on any other site, nor does anyone have my permission to repost it in its entirety. Thank you!!!

  
It’s been a long day and Nick is exhausted. He’s been awake since four, having to get to work earlier than normal for a meeting, followed by two more in the afternoon. He tried to catch a nap when he got home but Harry was knocking on his apartment door, begging him to try a new pastry that he’s been working on for the bakery. And Nick’s not one to say no, couldn’t even if he tried, not with Harry giving him wide eyes and a carefully crafted pout that Nick thinks he practices in the mirror. And a simple taste test turned into an afternoon on the balcony, drinking wine and discussing Harry’s latest developments on getting a date with the bakery’s regular, Niall.

It took twenty minutes to get Harry out of his apartment, his curly-haired neighbor prolonging goodbye to tell Nick about how his (bratty) friend Louis was going to be staying with him for a while, how he lost another job and he needs to get back on his feet and how he just wanted to tell Nick so that he wouldn’t be surprised to see Louis around the apartment complex.

Nick doesn’t even have the energy to want to argue with Harry about how he’d rather get his leg hair plucked, one hair at a time than have to live next to Louis, even if it’s only temporary. So he tells Harry that he’ll be on his best behavior as he shoves him out of his apartment, shutting the door and dragging himself to bed, curling up against Puppy and going to sleep.

~~~~~

It’s two in the morning, according to the blaring red light of his alarm clock, when he’s woken up. It’s not a gentle awakening, he doesn’t sigh as he rolls over, snuggling into his blanket and pillow before he falls right back asleep, instead it’s by jumping up, slamming his head into the headboard in the process and glancing around in confusion as to what is going on. He shoves his glasses onto his face, and continues glancing around his bedroom in confusion, this time with clear vision instead of a blurred mess or shapes and colors. There’s music playing, blaring actually, the bass shaking his walls, enough to make his bed vibrate as he stumbles out of it, tripping over Puppy, who is growling at her shadow on the floor.

Nick staggers through his apartment, trying his hardest to wake himself up so he can figure out where the noise is coming from. He slaps his cheeks a couple times, hoping it’ll knock some sense into him so he can figure out where all the music and shouting is coming from. He can hear an array of people chanting different things, but in his sleepy daze, he just spins in circles, trying to figure out if he really is going insane because there are voices but no bodies.

It takes him what feels like thirty minutes to realize that the noise is coming from Harry’s apartment and he releases a sigh, shaking his head. The flashes of memories enter his mind at once, Harry telling him that Louis is moving in and they absolutely have to throw him a welcoming party, and Nick politely declining before he shoves Harry out of his apartment.

Nick rubs at his temples, trying to still the gnawing anger swirling around in his stomach as he unlocks his front door. He’s met with a crowd of people, a man holding a beer shouts when he sees Nick, smiling at him and bobbing his head up and down. Nick rolls his eyes at him and closes his door before he starts shoving through the crowd, pushing his way through the hallway until he’s walking through Harry’s open door.

There are more people here than Nick thinks he’s ever seen at a party before in his life, which is odd because he’s not sure that this many people actually like Louis enough to want to welcome him into Harry’s apartment. He thinks the party is stupid, Louis is only going to be living with Harry until he gets back on his feet, a transitional place of sorts, but he gets a grand party that wakes Nick up on a night where he needs to be at work bright and early the next morning. And that’s another thing, it’s a work night, a Tuesday evening and people have to work in the morning, or those that haven’t been fired from their third job in two months do at least. Maybe Louis was fired for not understanding common workday courtesies.

There are only six apartments in their building, the two on the top floor belonging to Nick and Harry, their front doors just a hallway apart. Nick’s never actually met anyone else in the building, but he’s seen a little old lady entering a time or two when he’s pulling open his bedroom window, but he’s never introduced himself. Even without knowing all of the neighbors, he knows that he cannot be the only unhappy tenant; he hopes not at least, he’d hate to be known as the neighbor who ruins all the fun.

Nick can’t find Harry, he’s checked his bedroom and every room of the apartment, elbowing through the mass of bodies, most of them Nick’s never seen before, he doubts Harry’s even seen them before. He sees Niall, the regular at the bakery but definitely no Harry, not even sitting next to Zayn at the impromptu DJ station. His head’s starting to pound and he’s stepped in some kind of puddle, his barefoot sticky as he tries to find one of the people living in this apartment that he can complain to about the noise.

Nick finds Louis out on the balcony, bouncing his head around to the music as he nurses a beer. Nick shoves open the sliding door, slamming it closed behind him and practically growling at the sight. He hadn’t wanted to find Louis, he wanted to find Harry so he could blame this entire thing on his short and snotty little brat of a friend, instead he finds Louis, and he’s standing out on the balcony away from the party, which means he can’t exactly declare everything about this is his fault.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Tomlinson?” Nick demands to know, because even if he can’t blame everything on Louis, it doesn’t mean that he’s not still furious that he’s been woken up and sent on a wild goose chase at half two in the morning.

Louis jumps, whipping around quickly to see who it is. He tries to hide the scare when he sees it’s Nick, pats his chest for a second before he smirks. “Fancy seeing you here, Nicholas. Although you do have a tendency to show up at places you’re not welcome, so I guess I’m not too surprised. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He questions and then takes another drink of his beer, his lips wrapped around the rim and normally this would spark Nick’s interest in a lot of places but tonight it just annoys him further.

“It’s after two in the morning and it’s Tuesday,” Nick states, because it should be obvious to Louis why he’s here. He leaves out the part where he wants to say that he’s not showing up when he’s not wanted because Harry wanted his help setting up, and also because the front door is open, anyone could have walked in.

“Yes, excellent observations. If that’s it, I’ll be off, yeah?” Louis smiles, his stupid, pointy teeth shining at Nick for a moment before he attempts to brush past him, but Nick stops him, gripping onto his stupidly small wrist and guiding him back to his place in the corner of the balcony.

“It’s a Tuesday night and some people have to work in the morning. I have to be awake in two and a half hours, _two and a half hours_. Do you understand that concept?” Nick demands, because he knows that Louis is an idiot, but he didn’t think he was this much of an idiot.

“No I don’t, not really.” Louis smiles, a slow and lazy smile. He’s drunk and definitely, not even in the slightest bit, okay maybe a teensy bit cute, but that’s beside the point, because Nick can feel his nerves firing up inside of him and judging by the look on Louis’ face, he knows the other boy can sense it. Louis has always had a remarkable ability to gauge Nick’s emotions, whatever they might be.

“It’s a Tuesday, two days after the weekend ended, meaning three days after the acceptable day to throw a party, or if you want to look at it differently, there are three days until the next time you can actually throw a party. So, you should head on out there, love, and tell these people to go home, please.”

“No, I don’t think I will, thanks,” Louis says, smiling at him before he wraps his lips around the beer bottle to take another drink, his gaze challenging over the end of the bottle.

“Who throws a party on a Tuesday?” Nick shouts, feeling slightly crazed, his head feels dizzy with aggravation. “Some people have work in the morning. Jobs, they require you to wake up early in the morning for. Do you understand that concept or is that why you were fired… _again_?”

Louis looks at him for a moment, his glare aggressive, and Nick swallows taking a step back, ready for Louis to lash out but instead he shrugs, and shoves past Nick, reentering Harry’s apartment and disappearing from Nick’s sight.

Nick waits a beat, staring out at the building’s garden and the back of the apartments behind them as he catches his breath. He waits until he’s sure that Louis will have gone somewhere where Nick won’t run into him on the way out, before he drags himself back to his apartment. And right before he shoves a pillow over his ear, he hears the music get louder, the bass vibrating the walls harder than before.

~~~~~

Nick thinks he might be even more tired today than he was yesterday. Work is a nightmare, he’s so fucking tired and he’s annoyed, having spent most of the morning griping about Louis in his head. All he can think about is Louis’ shitty grin when Nick confronted him on the balcony, and the way his eyes shined and sparkled with mischief, like he’d _wanted_ Nick to wake up and show up at the party, which is odd because it’s Louis, and Nick’s not exactly the type of person who would want to welcome him to the neighborhood. It’s a bit sad really, because Nick happens to think of himself as relatively attractive and witty, both admirable qualities that Louis glosses over with his bratty attitude.

Louis has hated him since the moment he met him, actually no. Louis has hated Nick since the moment he found out that Nick was the boy Harry had been spending most of his time with, his new best friend as Harry called him. They’d first met at a bar a few years back. Louis was out with some guy that had bushy eyebrows and dark brown eyes. Nick had been out with his friend, Aimee, the two of them looking for a night of fun. Nick hadn’t intentionally meant to steal Louis from his date, but the boy was electric and Nick was drawn to him, unable to keep his eyes off of him, and when he touched him, he was unable to keep his hands off of him. It only took an hour before Nick and Louis were stumbling out of the bar with their mouths pressed together, hands in each other’s hair, and hailing a cab back to Nick’s place.

Nick fucked him fast and sloppy the first time, and then slow and thorough the second time, taking his time and making Louis beg for it, with drunken slurs of _please_ and _more._ In the morning, Nick wrapped his hand around Louis’ dick while Louis fucked into it and then he sent him on his way with a kiss and a night full of memories that Nick definitely, absolutely does not still think about when he’s getting himself off.

He spent three weeks thinking about Louis and his breathy moans, shivers ripping up his spine when he did, until Nick sees him again. He’d been spending almost every day with Harry, going back and forth between their apartments, when he knocked on Harry’s door, only to have it answered by Louis. He remembers how his breath caught in his throat at the sight, the way his heart started pounding in his chest, and a part of him was excited to see him again, and the possibility of round two – technically round four. He wasn’t able to read Louis, but he didn’t need to read him because the moment Harry introduced Nick as his new best friend, Louis’ eyes turned to slits, his personality gone cold and the rest is history.

Nick never got his round two, instead he got a threat that if Harry ever found about their night together Louis would chop his dick off and make him eat it. And ever since, things have been horrible between the two. They barely tolerate being in the same room together, but they do it for the curly-haired boy they call their best friend, even if they can’t stand each other.

Nick shakes his head of the thoughts and focuses back on his job. He gets through work on mostly autopilot, making coffee for all the uppers and sorts through the mail, making sure that the radio station actually got the right batch for once instead of getting some for the furniture rental store three stores over. It's the grunt work of the station but Nick’s close to working his way to earning air time and that’s what he wants, that’s why he does the menial work that his dog could do for a living. And even though it’s the easiest work in the world, he still manages to smash his boss’s favorite mug, spilling coffee down the leg of his pants, and nodding off in the middle of his shift.

And the only person to blame is Louis Tomlinson. Short, demonic, snarky, semi-attractive Louis Tomlinson, the boy who got fired from a children’s toy store only to move into the apartment next to Nick’s. The thought of going home makes him want to hit his head against the desk, but his shifts over and he has to face the music at some point.

~~~~~

The first thing Nick sees when he climbs the stairs three floors is Harry, he’s standing in the middle of their hall with a broom in his hand, sweeping up plastic cups and glass bottles. He glances up at the noise and his face immediately flushes with guilt, his eyes widening and lips puffing out. And Nick sighs as all of the anger about the party instantly dissipates from his body, he can never stay frustrated with Harry.

“I’m _so_ sorry about last night. I didn’t think it would get that out of control. It started out with just a few of us, we were just sitting around having pizza and beers but then more people came and then more people and, um, more people. And so then I had to go out and get more food, because I wasn’t prepared for that many people, you know,” Harry declares, pausing to take a deep breath and Nick shoves his apartment key back into his pocket and leans against the wall, expecting to be here a while. “Anyway, I went to get new food and it was pretty late, I didn’t think about how you had to get up so early for work but then I saw Louis and he said he you were… Uh, he said you weren’t pleased.”

“It’s a Tuesday! You shouldn’t be throwing a party on a Monday night when it can roll into Tuesday. I cannot have been the only person to get upset. What did the other neighbors say?”

“Well, the people that live below me are out of town for the month and the apartment below you is still vacant. And on the first floor is Ms. Winters, she’s the old lady that wears the pink slippers and has the cat? She doesn’t mind the parties because she can’t hear them, and of course because I bring her biscuits from the bakery from time to time. And then Josh lives in the other apartment, and we always make sure to invite him” Harry explains, nodding his head like Nick should know all of this already.

“So you accommodate for every other neighbor in the building, just not the one you’re actually _friends_ with?” Nick inquires, feeling his annoyance begin to flood back into his body. “I just don’t understand why a Tuesday. What could possibly possess a person to think Tuesday was a suitable day to get drunk? I knew you wanted to welcome him into the apartment or the building, or whatever, but I thought that it would be something small, a couple beers between friends, not something that would rattle my walls while I tried to sleep.”

“Oh god, are you still going on about that?”

It’s not Harry who answers, but Louis. He’s standing in the entrance to Harry’s apartment, wearing a loose shirt that hangs off his collarbones and a pair of boxers, ample thighs on full display. Nick has to work very hard to keep his eyes on Louis’ face, because he thinks if he looks down that he might do something embarrassing like lick his lips and gawk, or like his cock might think this is the right time to sport a semi. He wants neither of those things so he reminds himself that Louis is a fucking brat, and instead glares at him, doing his best to look mean. “Yes. Well, I will go on about this until I get an apology for losing sleep,” Nick assures, folding his arms over his chest and standing up straighter, trying to make his body look even larger and taller than it already is.

“I’m sorry that you didn’t get your beauty rest, Nicholas. Because lord knows you could use it so I’m sorry you’re still ugly. Is that good enough for you?” Louis bites back, scratching lazily at his neck, like he’s above this entire conversation and Nick’s skin prickles with anger.

Nick opens his mouth to reply but Louis gives him the finger, smirking for a brief second before he disappears back into the apartment. And Nick definitely does not squawk, because that would be embarrassing and he’s above doing embarrassing things, but what he does do is turn to Harry to utter, “How long is the child staying with you again?”

“Um, he’s here until he gets back on his feet. He’s going through a hard time right now and maybe you could be a little bit nicer to him?” Harry asks, biting on his bottom lip. And Nick shifts his gaze away from Harry’s face to the space directly behind him, avoiding his face at all costs.

“I’m perfectly nice. I’m the nicest person there is. I’m so nice that there should be a saint named after me. Actually, now that I’ve said I know there is a Saint Nicholas, but they’re going to revise him and we’re no longer going to give presents to children, but they’re going to give presents to me, a thank you for being so fucking nice to everyone in the world,” Nick nods his head firmly because it’s true, not the part about him being a saint and stealing presents from children, but the part about him being nice, because he is, and Harry should already know this. They have been friends for years, ages really, and the only person in the world that brings out Nick’s wrathful side is Louis.

“Well, yeah of course you’re nice,” Harry says, carefully, like he’s about to brace Nick for something. “But I mean, I heard what you said to him earlier, the bit about him losing his job. It was a little mean.” The look he’s giving Nick is one that reads he’s trying not to be upset, but he might be just a little bit, if Nick knows Harry at all.

Nick sighs and shakes his head. “I was tired. I didn’t get much sleep the night before. I had to wake up even earlier than normal and then last night, when I thought that I’d be catching up on a bit of sleep, I was disturbed by the princess in there, and his royal ball.”

Harry nods his head in understanding, like he’s sympathizing with Nick. “Maybe you could say sorry,” he suggests and Nick rolls his eyes, because of course that’s something that Harry thinks will solve everything, like if he apologizes for insulting Louis then Louis won’t be a pain in the ass.

“Why would I apologize for your friend? It’s a Tuesday!” It’s a valid point, and for some reason the people in 3B don’t seem to understand that Tuesdays are for sleeping and not for celebrating a new, unwanted resident.

“Louis’ pretty upset about it. I think you hurt his feelings and if you could just apologize, then we could all be friends, right? You’d both really like each other if you’d just stop trying to kill each other,” Harry says, fixing Nick with a glare that turns into puppy eyes and a pout.

“Your friend should be the one apologizing,” Nick mutters like a child, looking at the ground instead of Harry. He refrains from stomping his feet and huffing, figures he can only choose one childlike behavior for this conversation.

“I’ll talk to him. I will, I swear,” Harry reasons.

“Well,” Nick says, pulling his keys out of his pocket. He spins them around in his hand, sighing when Harry’s eyes go a little wider, lip sticking out a little more. “I’ll think about it, all right?”

Harry breaks out in a smile, eyes sparkling as he jumps forward and hugs Nick tightly. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick says, patting him on the back.

Harry pulls away and smiles at him once more before he goes back to cleaning up the mess from Louis’ party, something Louis should be helping him do. Nick watches him for a moment before he turns around and unlocks his door, tossing his keys in the bowl on the table.

Puppy doesn’t greet him at the door, instead he finds her lounging on the couch; belly up and legs sprawled out and up in the air. She spares a moment to glance at him, pressing her face into his fingers when he reaches down to scratch behind her ears before she falls back asleep. She rolls over onto her side, her ear flopping down over her eyes. He smiles at her and gives her another scratch before he heads towards the kitchen, wanting to take a moment to sit on the balcony before he takes Puppy for her walk.

The balcony is one of Nick’s favorite places in his apartment, well outside his apartment. It’s fairly small, roughly three feet wide and five feet long. It’s completely made out of wood but Nick has placed thin bits of green colored plastic around it so Puppy can’t try and wiggle out of the gaps. He has his own little garden out here, potted plants along the railing and ground along with two chairs, one for him and the other for either Puppy or whatever guest he’s having over. He considers the balcony to be a place of tranquility and a place where he can come to rest his mind and forget about his problems. And it doesn’t help that it has one of the most striking views, the cityscape in the distant background.

He leaves his door open behind him as he steps inside, taking a deep breath of the cool air as he leans against the ledge, his elbows resting on the wooden rail.

Nick takes a moment to glance around, trying to soak up the energy he feels the balcony gives him, and trying to forget about Louis and the shitty excuse for an apology he gave in the hallway, knowing that Harry won’t be able to get any better out of him.

He chances a glance towards Harry and Louis’ balcony and immediately frowns; he stands up a little straighter as he stares at the sight before him.

Nick growls under his breath and releases a heavy, frustrated sigh. He steps back into his apartment, slamming his balcony door closed, and marches across his place until he reaches the other side, and yanks open his front door.

Harry jumps at the sound of the door, turning around with his hand over his heart to look at Nick. Nick fixes him with a glare, wanting to make sure Harry knows that he’s not happy. “What’s wrong?” Harry questions, leaning the broom against the wall, focusing all of his attention on Nick.

“I was just out on the balcony,” Nick says, raising an eyebrow at Harry as he leans against the doorframe. “Lovely bit of artwork out there, if I do say so myself.”

Harry’s eyes flash with something, possibly realization, Nick’s not sure, and he scratches behind his neck. “Oh.”

“You have a sculpture of a hand out on your balcony.”

“I… Um, yes,” Harry says nervously, looking at Nick as he chews on his bottom lip.

“Can I inquire as to why the statue is pointed in the direction of my balcony so it appears like it’s giving me the finger?” Nick questions.

“That’s, well, it’s an interesting story, is the thing. It’s Louis’ and he, um… He likes it?” Harry stammers.

“Harry, why is there a statue of a hand with its middle finger raised out on your balcony facing my balcony?” Nick wonders aloud, impatient and annoyed.

“I told you Louis was angry; just apologize before it gets worse, _please_.”

Nick glares at him again before he rushes back into his apartment. He couldn’t give a damn about Louis and his feelings or how upset he is about Nick insulting him about being fired. It’s not his fault that Louis is difficult and impossible and an annoying twat that doesn’t know how to keep a job. No, that’s Louis’ fault and Nick’s not going to let a sculpture of a hand flipping him off turn him into a groveling child, begging for forgiveness. Instead, he’s going to take his dog for a walk and plot ways to get Louis Tomlinson out of Harry’s apartment and out of his life, because Louis Tomlinson is a pest and the apartment building has strict rules about taking care of pests.

~~~~~

Nick loves taking Puppy for a walk, loves getting overdressed and walking through town and taking a little rest at the park a mile south with the pond. It’s one of his favorite things about having a dog because she keeps him active, helps keep his stomach from getting a little too round, because he’s honest enough to admit that his metabolism isn’t what it used to be. And while normally he spends these walks thinking up ideas to bring up to his boss for his radio show, ways to get him to see Nick as something more than an excellent coffee maker, tonight he thinks of schemes to get back at Louis.

Pranks haven’t always been his forte, but he knows what bothers Louis, what buttons to press, which gives him an edge that he thinks Louis might not have.

The thing about Louis Tomlinson, the thing that Nick knows he can work with, is that he’s insecure, oddly so, especially about his relationships with different people and his role in their lives.

Nick thinks that he could possibly steal Harry for the day, keep him for the weekend even, or however long it takes for Louis to get mad and jealous, enough to make him storm over to Nick’s apartment, but that’s weak. It’s amateur stuff and Nick is better than this, he knows he can come up with something far greater than this. For Christ’s sake, Louis bought a statue of a hand that flips Nick the bird every time he goes outside; Nick has to top that. And he can, he just has to think.

He thinks it’s not enough to play into Louis’ insecurity about his friendship with Harry, and his insecurity about his role in people’s lives, he needs something better.

Nick thinks he could tap into the place inside Louis that causes him to check himself out in the mirror three different times before he leaves for a night, but that’s taking things into a direction where mean reaches a brand new level, and Nick doesn’t want to go there. He’s not going to exploit Louis’ insecurity about feeling like he’s not good enough, because Nick doesn’t agree with it. It’s not that he necessarily thinks Louis is enough, but he doesn’t want Louis to feel like he’s not worthy, because he is, and Nick thinks he’s probably one of the prettiest boys he’s ever gotten to see naked, which is a lot. Nick thinks playing into this insecurity might be taking things too far, and he’s not sure he wants this taken to a level where he can’t take it back.

For some reason, the thought of a simple prank going so far as to drive Louis out of his life makes his stomach churn unpleasantly, but he’s too exhausted to dwell on it.

Nick rounds the corner to the park, Puppy picking up her pace as she drags him along. He finds a nice patch of grass in the shade underneath a giant oak tree and sits down; leaning against the stump and thinks, hoping an idea will come to him.

~~~~~

When Nick gets home from his walk with Puppy there’s a note taped to his door, a sheet of paper with messy scrawl on it that reads, _sorry for nothing._ Nick growls, yanking the paper off the door and crumbling it up, throwing it across the hall towards Louis and Harry’s apartment before he disappears into his own, letting Puppy off her leash and getting to work.

Nick will be damned if he’s going to let an overgrown-monster of a child continue to ruin his life.

~~~~~

Louis settles onto Harry’s couch, leaning back against the cushions and resting his feet on the table. He’s got his laptop on his lap and Harry’s television remote in his hand, using it to flip through channels, trying to find something decent to watch for the night. His heads still a little sore from the hangover, having had way too much to drink last night at his welcoming party. Harry is sitting on the chair next to him, his feet on the table right beside Louis’, and his phone in his hand, typing away to some unknown person, probably Niall, if Louis had to guess. His best friend has had a crush on the blonde for weeks; but of course Niall is completely oblivious, just clapping Harry on the back and walking off when Harry tries to impress him.

It’s kind of cute, when Louis thinks about it. He’s never seen his best friend struggle to get someone interested in him, but Niall just seems to be lost when it comes to Harry, always assuming his flirting and practically throwing himself on him to be just his normal friendly behavior. Harry has taken to slapping Louis every time he gets too close to him around Niall, not wanting the blonde-haired boy to think that he’s in a relationship with another boy. It’s amusing to watch, and Louis really wishes he could remember the two of them at the party last night; it was probably a great laugh, if he had to guess.

Louis drops the remote at his side, having turned off the television when nothing of interest could be found, and grabs his laptop, opening it up and clicking the Internet browser icon. He opens six different tabs, all of his favorite sites loading as he taps his fingers against the keyboard, waiting while his computer does what he wants.

“Louis,” Harry says, causing Louis to direct his gaze to his friend. He raises an eyebrow at him, letting him know that he’s listening. “Don’t you think the statue is a bit much?”

“No,” Louis replies, short and sweet, because he thinks Nick is the person that Harry is texting and he thinks the statue in question is probably the topic of their conversation. He also thinks that Nick deserves something worse to look at when he steps out onto his balcony, like a picture of road kill, or having to watch pictures of himself being lit on fire. Nick loves himself far too much and Louis thinks having to see his own face being lit on fire would cause his giant ego to explode, and probably his fat head, if Louis had to guess. Louis doesn’t think that a statue of a hand with a raised middle finger tells Nick exactly what he thinks about him, but it’ll have to do for now.

“Well I think it’s too much,” Harry says, setting his phone down on the couch. He looks at Louis, and sighs. “I told you to apologize.”

“What am I apologizing for? I didn’t do anything, the party was your idea, not mine,” Louis says, glancing at his laptop screen, scrolling through Facebook to see if anyone put up anything interesting. “Maybe _you_ should be the one to apologize.”

“I know, but you had that fight, and you said he always shows up places he’s not wanted, and I think it hurt his feelings. And then he was going to apologize but he saw the statue,” Harry explains. “How can he apologize when he has to look at that all the time?”

“Is Nick Grimshaw ever sorry, like really sorry?” Louis wonders, chancing a glance up at Harry.

Harry sighs, shaking his head. “Can't you just tell him you’re sorry?”

“I did,” Louis protests, thinking back to the note he tapped on Nick door letting him know that he’s sorry for absolutely nothing that he’s done. He’s not sorry, not even a little bit, because Nick deserves to see that statue, he’s arrogant and self centered and rude and doesn’t know how to act like a decent human being. He showed up at Louis’ party, and granted Louis can admit that he realizes the entire thing was a bit ridiculous for a Tuesday night, but he didn’t throw it, and Nick showed up, wearing a stupid pair of red cut off sweatpants that reached mid thigh, and a loose white top that hung low, exposing his stupid, stupid patch of chest hair that Nick’s so proud of. But the worst part of it was that Nick was prancing around with his bare feet and glasses and his hair in total disarray, standing up in odd directions and Louis might’ve considered it endearing if it was anyone other than Nick, but because it _is_ Nick, it’s absolutely infuriating. It’s so annoying that Louis is tempted to head straight over to Nick’s apartment now to tell him how aggravating he is, but his head hurts and he just wants to lie on the couch for the night, spy on his friend’s social media antics and possibly watch a movie.

“You know,” Harry says carefully, looking at Louis for a moment. “I don’t think telling someone you’re sorry because of nothing can be considered an apology. In fact I’m fairly positive that it isn’t.”

“He told you that?” And when Harry nods, Louis rolls his eyes. “What a snitch. He’s disgusting, absolutely revolting. He’s a grown man and he still tattles on people.” Louis hates Nick.

“He didn’t tell,” Harry insists. “Honest, I was telling him to apologize to you and he told me what happened, said to check for a rolled up paper in front of our door if it was still there, I checked and it was, so I unrolled it and read it, read it a couple of times actually.”

“Harry… the point?” Louis questions, cutting Harry’s story short, because he really doesn’t want to hear Harry’s entire thought process as he read the note, he thinks he already knows what it might have been anyway.

“It wasn’t very nice. You threw the party, planted the statue on the balcony and wrote him that note; all he did was say something mean. Can’t you at least just say you’re sorry? You don’t even have to mean it.”

Louis takes a deep breath, turning his gaze away from Harry who has resorted to puppy eyes and a pouty lip. Harry knows that it’ll get him anything what he wants, except Niall, and Louis doesn’t think he can look at it for a moment longer, because then Harry might convince him that he’s actually sorry for what he’s done to Nick, which he’s not. Not even a little bit. “All right. Fine. I’ll text him and let him know I’m sorry, okay? But I won’t mean it, not even a little bit.”

Harry smiles, showing all of his teeth before he jumps up, sliding onto the couch next to Louis and wrapping his arms around him, holding onto him tightly. “Thank you. And you know what?”

“What?” Louis asks, looking down at Harry.

“I bet after you say sorry, you can tell Nick how much you like him because I think he’s got a crush on you too,” Harry winks at him and then closes his eyes, cuddling into Louis’ side.

Louis rolls his eyes and ignores him, poking Harry in the ribs before he goes back to his computer. He has no intention of answering Harry; none whatsoever because he doesn’t like Nick, especially not in the way he knows Harry is alluding to. He thought he could, after the night they met in the club. He had wanted to leave Nick his number, wanted to see him again, and thought about him for weeks until he found out that he was Harry’s snotty, fucking twat of a friend he had been mentioning for ages. He can’t really put his finger on it, but for some reason he’d hated Nick instantly after that, everything the other boy did driving him absolutely nuts.

And it’s not like Nick’s terrible on the eyes. He’s got nice hair, which he ruins by styling it up in that stupid quiff. He’s got decent eyes and legs, and if Louis is being honest, he kind of likes how Nick’s stomach isn’t completely flat but soft and pudgy under his finger when he pokes him for being too annoying. And he’s got a nice jaw, and other sharp features that aren’t too bad to look at, but then Nick opens his mouth and talks…and it all falls apart.

It’s a shame, Louis thinks as he scans through Facebook, checking out what his friends have been up to lately. He sees Nick on his feed, sees that he’s uploaded a new album of pictures. Clicking on it, Louis prepares himself for an array of selfies with Nick’s mouth open and tongue our or lips pursed together. He’s surprised, however, when the first picture is a group of people sat around a table, with a blurred out figure in the center. He reads the caption, _all the people that mean the most to me, except for the one that’s blurred out. <3 <3_

Louis looks at the picture, wondering whom Nick would blur out, because he can’t think of anyone that Nick actually hates or can’t stand for that matter. As he scans through the pictures it becomes apparent, the figure Nick has blurred out is Louis. He’s missing from a picture of him and Harry; one he knows is in Nick’s phone because Harry made him take it last summer, so now it’s just a picture of Harry and a blurry mass.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Louis says, flipping through the album quickly to see that every single picture, all twenty of them have a blurry blob, one of them just a blurry mass alone. “What a piece of shit.”

“What’s the matter?” Harry questions, leaning off of Louis. Louis points to the screen, directing Harry’s eyes to the pictures as he flips through them for a second time. “Who put these up?”

“Your best friend. The lovely, Nick Grimshaw,” Louis says behind a bitter laugh. “What a fucking asshole.”

“He’s lashing out because he’s hurt,” Harry says, doing his best to be reasonable. “You hurt his feelings. Can’t you just say sorry?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll do something all right,” Louis says, slamming his laptop closed and shoving it off to the side. “I’ll definitely be doing something for Nick Grimshaw.”

“Louis,” Harry says and Louis waves him off, standing up from the couch and retreating back into his bedroom to unpack his boxes and to think because if Nick wants to make him feel like he’s unwanted and he’s nothing, then Louis can do the exact same. Somehow.

~~~~~

Nick manages to make it through the night and half of the next day without hearing from Louis. He feels like he’s in the clear, a false sense of security washing over him at the lack of contact. Naturally, Nick thinks himself a certified genius for getting Louis Tomlinson to shut his mouth by simply blurring him out of a few pictures.

He didn’t have the slightest clue that it would make Louis back down, make him realize that this entire prank war, or whatever it is, is the dumbest thing in the world. He had felt bad, for the briefest of moments, when Harry sent him a screenshot of one of the blurred out pictures he’d posted on Facebook followed by thirty - he counted - frowny face emojis. But it was short lived though, because honestly, the pictures truly were better without Louis in them. And Nick might not be as creative as Louis, but he knows all the right buttons to push to make him angry.

Nick knows what gets under Louis’ skin and drives him crazy, which is exactly why he blurred him out of every picture he could get his hands on, some of which belonged to other people. One of Louis’ largest insecurities is being forgotten or replaced by the people he cares about, especially when it comes to Harry. Nick had figured it out shortly after they met and Louis had lashed out for no reason, constantly threatening him if he didn’t leave Harry alone, and doing everything he could to drive him out of their lives.

It didn’t take much to figure it out, one little comment about how Harry preferred him and Nick’s suspicions were confirmed.

A small part of him wants to apologize for what he did, because he thinks poking at Louis’ insecurities might have taken the game too far. Nick’s a nice guy, he really is, maybe not to Louis, but in general, and he doesn’t like knowing that he might be hurting someone, even if the little brat deserves it. He considers texting Harry to find out if Louis is okay, or if he should do something massive to gain his forgiveness, because the truth is, Louis is one of Nick’s favorite people.

Nick loves Louis’ wit and his sarcasm; he loves the way he bites back when Nick bites first. And surprisingly, he loves how unapologetic Louis is for all the right reasons but shows it in all the wrong ways. Nick finds it endearing. He even likes the way Louis pretends not to care, but still manages to take care of everyone around him, far greater than he takes care of himself. And Louis – if Nick’s being honest – is one of the most attractive people that he’s ever had the luxury of being inside of, hell, has even glanced at. He’s definitely in his list of top five people he’d like to see naked everyday for the rest of his life.

That little fact is something he’s going to keep to himself, but he thinks the apology he can do.

Which he had every intentions of doing, really, that is until he’s walking up the path to his apartment building after work, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with Puppy for a bit before he has to take her on a walk, and he sees a fairly large, handwritten sign posted on the door to his building that reads: _Nick, move out. No one likes you._

Nick stares at the piece of paper for a minute, blinking as he reads it over and over again until it clicks in his head that this is another one of Louis’ stupid antics. He rips the paper down from the door and shoves it under his arm so he can dig through his pockets for his keys. He drops the note in the trashcan their landlord keeps next to the door, right underneath the mailboxes, and heads upstairs, shaking his head as he thinks about Louis’ note.

He makes it to the third floor, panting slightly because of the stairs and sees another note on his door, this one reading: _Only dumb assholes live here._ This note causes Nick’s skin to prickle in irritation, because Louis Tomlinson seems to have developed an affliction to taping notes to Nick’s door and each one is more insulting than the last. He contemplates what to do, deciding that he’s going to get Harry out of his apartment and show him the note for himself, show him the cold, hard facts that Louis Tomlinson is a childish nightmare, forget what he said about liking the little brat.

Only there is a third note taped to Louis and Harry’s door and Nick prepares himself as he walks down the narrow hallway, bracing himself for what’s written on this one.

_Nick, stop coming to our apartment. We don’t like you. We don’t find you interesting._

Nick turns on his heel, leaving the note on the door and rushing into his apartment, slamming the door closed behind him and pulling out his phone. He finds Louis’ number saved under, ‘abominable monster’ and texts him saying, _Are you really this pathetically mad that I made a comment about your lack of a job?_

He shoves his phone into his pocket and makes off to find Puppy, hoping his dog will make everything better.

~~~~~

Louis is lying on the couch watching a movie when his phone vibrates across his chest, shortly followed by a chirp. He picks the phone up, glancing down at the screen and sees a text notification from Nick. He thumbs his phone unlocked and sits up, muting the movie so he can read what he said in silence.

He frowns when he reads the text, because this has absolutely nothing to do with Nick being a giant bag of dicks about his being sacked. It does, however, have everything to do with Nick being such a giant bag of dicks that Louis wants him out of the building and out of his life. Nick purposely went out of his way to make Louis feel like shit with the pictures on Facebook because he’s an overgrown man-child that can’t handle a little welcoming party on a work night, which wouldn’t have been a problem if he had been invited, Louis is sure of it. It’s also about Nick’s inability to give a genuine apology for the comment he made at the party, which… Okay, so this has everything to do with Nick poking fun at Louis at the party and also, probably, everything to do with Nick being Louis’ least favorite person in the entire world.

 **Are you really this pathetically pathetic because you weren’t invited to my party?** Louis texts back. It’s not the best response, but it’s something.

Nick’s reply comes almost instantly. _If you’re going to be a child while living with Harry, darling, you should really consider finding your own place, because there’s no room for children in the building._

**Maybe if you move out I could have your place, and then you won’t have to worry about my living situation.**

_Darling, if you want to live in my apartment all you have to do is ask. I’m sure I can make room for you. Puppy did just get a new bed recently, plenty of space in my own now._

Louis snorts, rolling his eyes and fighting back a smile because Nick really is rather clever.

**Live with you? No thanks; I’d rather shatter my leg in thirteen different places.**

Louis waits for Nick’s response, setting his phone down on his lap and glancing up in time to see Harry coming out of his bedroom. Harry looks at him for a moment before sighing, shaking his head. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Louis says in confusion, tilting his head to the side.

“What did you do to Nick?” Harry elaborates.

“Oh, nothing. I just told him the truth, nothing horrible,” Louis says, biting his lip when Harry frowns at him.

His phone vibrates and he glances down to read, _seriously though, are you ever going to stop with the notes?_

 **I’ve done nothing wrong, you deserve it,** he writes back, glaring at his phone before he glances back up at Harry. “He’s so annoying.”

“I heard the same goes for you, apparently,” Harry says, taking careful steps across the room. “Nick said you never apologized and that I should check our front door.”

“You definitely shouldn’t do that,” Louis says, tossing his phone onto the couch and jumping up, trying to stop Harry but Harry’s too quick for him because he’s rushing across the apartment, pulling the door open and frowning deeply when he reads the note on their door. He yanks it off, thrusting it into Louis’ hands.

“I’m going over to Nick’s, and I don’t want to see you until you’re ready to tell Nick you’re sorry, so think about it and then come and join us for tea,” he says, and Louis watches him go, watching as he reads the note on Nick’s door and turns around to glare at Louis. “You better tell him you’re sorry, Louis.” And then he’s gone, disappearing into Nick’s apartment.

His phone vibrates on the couch and he leans over the back of it, dropping his note onto the ground and sees that Nick wrote, _Harry seems to think you’ve done a lot wrong._

**That’s because Harry is too nice to know that you’re an overgrown child that doesn’t deserve his friendship, if I had to guess.**

_You’re pretty, so I’m betting that you don’t hear this quite often, but you really need to learn to shut your mouth._

Louis glares at his phone, ignoring the flip in his stomach at the word pretty and writes back, **I have nothing to be sorry for, and keep your toxic lies out of my best friends head,** knowing full well that Nick likes to fill Harry’s head with how dreadful he is.

He doesn’t bother waiting for Nick’s response; instead he pulls open a new message, one meant for his friend Zayn, and writes: **You’re taking me out tonight. Be here in an hour.**

Louis throws his phone onto the couch and heads into Harry’s room to look for an outfit tonight, making a mental note to finish unpacking his boxes so he can stop borrowing Harry’s clothes.

~~~~~

Nick and Harry are sprawled out on his couch, Nick’s legs spread out across Harry’s lap with Puppy lying on his lap. He’s just finished the tea Harry made him, the younger boy fussing over Nick and apologizing profusely for what Louis did. Nick hadn’t sent Harry the text so he would be sorry, but he likes the attention, he’s basking in it as Harry fawns over him, so he doesn’t tell him he shouldn’t be sorry, he just pouts at him, nodding his head like he’s going through something truly horrific. And, if Nick spends enough time thinking about it, he can reason that Louis is something truly horrific, especially when Nick can think of so many more things, so much better to do with Louis’ mouth.

He’d never tell Harry that though, so he keeps his mouth shut and allows Harry to tap his fingers against his calves and let him know that Louis isn’t as terrible as he seems.

“It’s so close to my birthday and he’s being horrible to me,” Nick whines, looking at Harry through his lashes before he looks down, pouting. “He’s a nightmare, honestly. I can’t believe you let him move in, kick him out for my birthday, yeah?”

Harry smiles sympathetically at him, shaking his head. “Sorry, no can do. And he’ll lighten up, hopefully. You just know how to wind him up, it makes him crazy.”

“Well, everything annoys him, so it’s easy,” Nick says, nudging Harry with his foot, careful not to disturb Puppy. “He’s always angry; I don’t know how you can even stand him.”

“It’s really only with you,” Harry explains, shifting around and getting comfortable. “I swear you’d get along if you gave each other the chance, and I know you hate when I say this, but I think he likes you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you. Maybe you scare him.”

“Yes, he’s acting truly terrified,” Nick says, reaching down to stroke the fur behind Puppy’s ear. “I don’t want to talk about Louis anymore. I want to talk about me. Let’s discuss my birthday.”

Harry smiles at him, rolling his eyes. “Okay, let’s talk about your birthday. What do you want to do?”

“I’m turning thirty, I don’t know. What do people in their thirties do?” Nick wonders, looking at Harry. He’s only twenty, not even twenty-one yet, meaning he’s the worst possible person in the world to ask about turning thirty, not when he’s only six months into his second decade of life.

“What’d you think about getting tattoos? I’ve been wanting to cover the words on my wrist,” he says, grabbing his left hand and rubbing his hand across the skin. “You want to get something to remember your thirtieth?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Nick says, settling back into the couch and closing his eyes. “So, you planning a party for me or what?”

“Or what,” Harry says, pinching Nick’s skin. “You’re too old for a party.”

Nick’s response is cut off by the sound of his door being flung open and Puppy diving off his lap to begin yapping on the floor, her little body bouncing around as she barks. Nick sits up, grabbing one of his throw pillows and sees Louis’ closing his door.

Nick rolls his eyes, anger surging through him as he glares at the boy. “Have you ever heard of knocking?” Nick questions, throwing the pillow in his hands onto the other end of the couch. He turns around to yell at Louis some more, but frowns when he sees what he’s wearing.

“I have, yes, but I’m going out on a date tonight and I wanted to let Harry know that I’d be back later, maybe,” Louis says to Nick, a condescending smile on his face.

“You’re going out on a date?” Nick asks. “With who? What’s his name?” Nick bites his tongue and folds his arms over his chest, trying to make it seem like he really doesn't care, because he doesn’t, but he also doesn't want Louis to be out having fun for the night while Nick has to sit at home and think about how exactly he’s going to get back at Louis for the notes.

“I don’t really think it’s any of your business, but I know Harry is going to demand to know if I don’t say, so his name is Zayn,” Louis says, kneeling down on the ground to pet Puppy. “You’re a loud one, aren’t you?”

Nick glares, watching as Puppy pushes into his hand, her entire body wagging in excitement at being pet by Louis.

“You’re going out with Zayn?” Harry questions, a hint of something in his eyes that Nick can’t read, like he can’t quite believe what Louis is telling him.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Louis says, his voice higher as he makes faces at Puppy, the dog having rolled onto her back to try and get a belly rub. “Oh my, you’re starved for attention, aren’t you?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pet _my_ dog,” Nick says, placing special emphasis on the word ‘my’. Nick whistles, patting his lap and calling Puppy’s name, trying to get her attention back on him. He hates when his dog loves on people before him.

Puppy whines at the call, rocking back onto her feet and nudging at Louis’ knee, demanding more of his attention.

“What the hell did you do to my dog?” Nick demands to know, flipping around on the couch so he’s sitting backwards, his stomach pressed against the back cushions and knees on the seat cushions. “Puppy, come.”

Puppy howls, stepping onto Louis’ leg to reach up and lick his chin, her tail still wagging happily. “It looks like she loves me more, Grimshaw. Harry and I might have to take her home.”

“You’re not taking my dog anywhere. Stop touching her,” Nick growls, and he realizes that he’s being irrationally furious about the situation, but he doesn’t want to deal with Louis right now, and he absolutely refuses, refuses to let his dog love someone that drives him up a wall. He can’t. He won’t. He refuses.

“Louis has always been really good with animals,” Harry says, cutting Louis off from replying. “They really love him.”

“She’s not an animal,” Nick says. “She’s _my_ animal, there’s a difference. And because she’s _my_ animal, she shouldn’t be on his side. So, if you’ll be ever so kind as to stop petting my dog and get out of my apartment, I’d appreciate it.” He smiles, batting his eyes at Louis, trying his hardest to annoy him so he’ll leave.

“She obviously has good taste since she seems to prefer me to you,” Louis says, smiling at Nick before he turns back to Puppy, his voice going higher as he begins talking to her. “Don’t you? You love me more than that nasty old Grimshaw, right?”

Puppy howls in response, head craned high as she wails, causing Louis to smile wider than Nick’s seen in a long time, his eyes crinkling with happiness.

“You know what,” Harry says, standing up from the couch and marching behind it; he bends down onto the ground, and picks Puppy up, trying his best to hug her against his chest as she thrashes around.

“Neither of you get her,” Harry says, struggling to hold onto her. “You’re both being idiots. Ow!” Harry sets Puppy on the ground and shakes his arm, glancing at the skin. “She nipped me.”

Puppy breaks off in a run, nails scratching against the wooden floor as she rushes off in the direction of the bedrooms.

“Lovely training on your dog, Nick,” Louis says, standing up slowly, brushing his knees off. “I hope you don’t mind, Harry that I borrowed your clothes. I still haven’t finished unpacking, and I know what you’re going to say, and I promise that I’ll unpack soon, but at least I managed to find my own pair of jeans.” He makes his way across the room, standing in front of mirror he has on the wall. Nick watches as he primps himself, flicking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it down before he brushes it back up. Nick shifts around on the couch, leaning his back against the arm of the couch so he can watch him.

“This shirt is massive, too, by the way. I didn’t realize you were so much bigger than me, your other shirts fit much better. This one is practically swallowing me,” Louis says, shifting the collar of the shirt around as he continues to look into the mirror.

Harry makes to reply and Nick sits up, leaning over the back of the couch so he can place his hand over his friend’s mouth, nodding his head to let Harry know that it’s okay, he’s got it and Harry doesn’t need to answer him, because Nick is dying to do it himself. “Actually, love,” Nick says, eyeing the way the shirt exposes his collarbone and his neck, a clear line where Nick wants to drag his teeth along the skin, using his mouth to mark places the shirt doesn’t cover. “That’s my shirt.”

Louis stills, his hands freezing in his hair before he slowly lowers them down to his sides. He glares at Nick in the mirror before he turns around. “Well, it’s no wonder that I smelled moth balls and denture cream when I put this on.”

Nick beams at him, showing all his teeth and Louis rolls his eyes, grabbing the hem of the shirt and pulling it off. He throws it at Nick on his way out of the apartment; chest bare and a sour look on his face. And Nick laughs, throwing himself forward and drowning the sounds into a pillow, the shirt Louis was wearing clutched in his hand.

~~~~~

Harry decides to stay at Nick’s place for the night, Louis going off on his date leaving him alone in his apartment, so Nick digs around through his freezer and finds a couple frozen pizzas to eat while they talk about life, and most of the conversations that Harry wants to have involve Nick and Louis and why he thinks they’re trying to ruin each other’s lives in a battle of the wills through passive aggressive actions.

And Harry, of course, has the most ridiculous reason imaginable for something like this.

“He’s flirting with you,” Harry declares for the third time in the last five minutes, a slice of pizza half in his mouth, causing his words to jumble together. “I’m telling you, he’s flirting with you.”

“Ah yes, I often forget the art of being absurdly, and unjustifiably rude as a mating ritual. Does Louis have books on the subject?” Nick asks, wiping the grease off his hand with a napkin.

“Nick, I’m being serious,” Harry shouts, bits of cheese dangling out of his mouth as he tries to talk through another bite. “He’s flirting. I swear, you don’t know Louis the way I do, this is classic.”

“Classic? So he writes, _only dumb assholes live here_ , on the apartment doors of all the blokes he flirts with, or am I just special? Is it his way of marking his territory? Instead of peeing on my welcome mat, he puts insults on my door. And I also think that somewhere in here this translates into some kind of harassment, but I’m not sure,” Nick says. He’s never been great with remembering the laws, but he does know that taping rude notes to people’s apartment doors can be constituted as harassment, or so he likes to think.

“It’s not harassment, it’s flirting. He’s only mean to the people he really, really likes,” Harry says around a mouthful of pizza. “It’s like with Liam, you remember Liam, right?” Nick nods, because he does, Liam has an incredible body and a sweet disposition; he’s absolutely nothing like the monster named Louis. “Louis used to pick on him, a lot, and Liam always thought it meant that he hated him, but we all knew that was just Louis, but he did it because he liked Liam. He wouldn’t have picked on him if he didn’t like him.”

“He must love me then,” Nick says, pulling another slice off the plate in the middle and helping himself, he’s on his third slice, but in his defense he did skip lunch, which means he can have about two more slices before he’ll allow guilt to sink in and he’s whining to Harry about needing to work out more.

“You know, maybe he does love you,” Harry says, swallowing his food and taking a drink of his water. “The sexual tension was unreal earlier, maybe that’s why he’s so mean to you. He’s furious you won’t have sex with him.”

Nick rolls his eyes, shaking his head at Harry. He really loves the guy, in a friendly way, but he’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks Louis loves him and would want a relationship with him. Out of his fucking mind.

“Wouldn’t it be romantic,” Harry continues a faraway look in his eyes, pizza in hand. “It’s like, you’re enemies, but you really only hate each other because you love each other, and you’re hiding it under angry notes and blurred out pictures. It’s like a rom com, a stunning tale of two enemies, but not real enemies, turned lovers.”

“Harry, I don’t think people find love stories with their enemies,” Nick says, swallowing a bite of food and shrugging his shoulders. “

“You’d be perfect together,” Harry says, sighing dramatically.

“We'd kill each other,” Nick corrects, taking another bite of pizza.

“With love,” Harry says, like the lovesick puppy he is and Nick rolls his eyes, shaking his head and finishing off his pizza.

~~~~~

Long after Harry’s left, in the middle of night, Nick’s awoken by a strange noise filtering through his apartment. He groans, rolling over onto his side, because he knows that it’s coming from Louis and Harry’s apartment, he can hear it clear as day through the wall behind his bed. It takes him a minute, his senses disoriented from sleeping, before he can tell what exactly the sound is. It hits him, the hair on his arms standing up and his stomach twisting as the breathy moans and high-pitched whines penetrate the wall.

Nick’s never had a problem with hearing what goes on in the apartment next door before. Occasionally he’ll hear the sound of Harry’s television when he has a cooking program turned up and is in the kitchen trying to do as they say, but he’s never heard any sort of sounds from inside his bedroom. And thinking about the layout of their apartments - the only difference between them is that Harry has a two bedroom, one of them in front and the other in the back, exactly where Nick’s is – Nick knows that the moaning is coming from the bedroom located in the back of the apartment, the one Harry uses for guests. With that in mind, Nick’s dick twitches in interest, because the moans penetrating the wood and drywall are coming from Louis' mouth. The only thing Nick doesn’t know, the thing that bothers him the most, is who is making Louis moan.

Nick doesn’t even know what to do with the information, his dick is lying against his thigh, three strokes away from hard, and Louis’ breathy whines are seeping into his bedroom, twisting in his gut and dropping down to his cock.

He’s heard them once before, but he was well past drunk and his memory is having a hard time bringing the noise to the forefront of his mind, mostly because his mind is focused on the sound of the boy next door.

Nick says fuck it as he kicks off his blanket, yanking his own underwear off with one hand while the other reaches over the bed for the bottle of lube he keeps in the bedside drawer. He feels like a nasty pervert for doing this, but the sounds Louis is making has him from soft to hard in less than two minutes, and before it gets painful, he wants to get off.

He squirts a little lube onto his hand, not in the mood to go dry, and wraps his hand around his dick, fisting it and begins stroking slowly.

Nick closes his eyes, picturing Louis in the bed on the other side of his wall, fucking into his fist and squirming around on the bed, the tiny whines leaving his mouth coming faster and faster. Nick picks up his own pace, squeezing harder until he’s fucking into his fist, his hips rocking off the bed. He has to bite onto his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out when his fingernail drags along the underside of his dick and catches on his slit. The lube on his hand has him practically slipping out of his grip, but he holds on, working his hand up and down as he listens to Louis, hopefully, getting himself off. Nick would rather not think about someone else in there with Louis, the brief thought makes something other than arousal swirl around in his stomach, but he pushes it to the back of his mind, the desire to come too strong to worry about how or why he’s hearing Louis through the walls, or how fucked up it is that he’s getting off to the sound of it.

Nick reaches down and cups his balls with his free hand, squeezing as he continues to fuck into his fist. The noises Louis is making are coming quicker and more desperate and Nick hears it when he comes, the long, heavy groan that leaves his body and Nick barely feels the twist in his gut before he’s coming also, long streaks of white come landing on his belly as he bites down onto his lip as hard as he can to prevent any noise from spilling out of it.

He’s left panting on the bed when he’s finished, feeling spent and like he’s never come so fucking hard by his own hand before. Nick can also feel the twinge of shame that comes along with wanking to the sound of someone else getting off, but he’s not going to focus on that, instead he’s going to clean the come off his stomach and hand, and go back to sleep. But first, he’s going to catch his breath.

Nick doesn’t know what to do with himself; he’s just come from the sound of Louis through his walls. Harry would say this means they’re soul mates, or some other bullshit, but Nick can’t afford to think this way, because for all he knows, he’s going to wake up tomorrow morning to thumb tacks all over his bedroom floor because Louis has an affliction to breaking into his apartment. He makes to rub his hand across his face until he remembers the one is covered in come, sighing, he crawls out of bed and heads toward the bathroom, kicking his underwear off his ankle as he goes.

~~~~~

It’s five minutes later when Nick’s phone beeps on the bedside table. He dabs at his stomach with the wet cloth before he drops it in his sink and heads back to bed, grabbing his phone as he drops onto the mattress. He thumbs it open and sees that it’s from Louis saying nothing more than, _enjoy yourself?_

Nick shoves his face into his pillow and screams, hating the little fucking bastard more than he did before, but also really, really wanting to fuck him more than he did before.

Nick’s phone beeps again, and pulling his head out of the pillow he reads, _night, pervert,_ and Nick considers moving out and changing his name, finding a place down south where he can sell sea shells and never have to deal with Louis Tomlinson again, because Nick knows he is never going to hear the end of this.

~~~~~

Louis hasn’t heard from Nick in a week, not like he’s kept an eye out for him, but he knows that the other boy is ignoring him. He’s seen him a few times, sneaking out of his apartment with his coat collar pulled up high and sunglasses on his face as he practically drags Puppy down the stairs and out for a walk. But he hadn’t been hanging out with Harry, always coming up with excuses, saying he was hanging out with Aimee for a doggy play-date or getting drinks with Collette. And Harry believed him, of course he did, he thinks the best of everyone and trusts that they won’t lie to him, but Louis’ knew otherwise, because he can hear Nick through his bedroom walls as he watches television, shouting obscenities.

That’s how Nick’s disappearance started, hearing things through each other’s walls.

Louis’ didn’t think Nick would be able to hear him as he wanked in the privacy of his own bedroom, but at the first sound of a bitten off moan through the walls let Louis know he had been unknowingly putting on a little show, and not just for himself. It hadn’t been his date with Zayn that caused him to need a night of self-satisfied masturbation, but rather pent up frustration from arguing with Nick.

He hadn’t even gone on a date, just went out for drinks and back to Zayn’s place for video games, but he liked the idea of Nick getting off to the sound of him, and Nick’s inability to know if Louis was alone or with company.

But it’s been since that incident that Nick has disappeared, which was the opposite of what Louis wanted. It had taken him five minutes to work up the courage to text Nick, and the only reason he did was because he thought Nick would bite back. He thought the other boy would retort with a sarcastic remark, or a picture of his middle finger raised, or at the very least, Louis would wake up to find that Nick shaved his eyebrows off while he was sleeping.

Anything, but not a chilled silence that leaves Louis feeling dirty, because despite everything, Louis likes the games they play with each other, and it feels an awful lot like a blow to his gut that Nick would pull away completely like he has.

~~~~~

“I’ve got it,” Harry shouts, barging into Louis’ bedroom while he’s getting dressed. “I know the perfect idea of what we can do as a gift for Nick’s birthday.”

Louis buttons his jeans, watching as Harry dives onto his bed, rolling onto his stomach and smiling up at him. “Yeah? What makes you think I want to give him anything for his birthday?”

Harry’s smile falters and his brow furrows. “Louis, you have to get him something. It’s his birthday, it would be rude not to do something for him.”

Louis rolls his eyes as he bends over to grab a shirt off his floor; he smells it and shrugs finding that it doesn’t smell dirty. It’s not exactly clean, but it’s not over powering with sweat or anything. He’ll just spray an extra bit of cologne; no one will even notice.

“All right, so what’s your great idea for Nick’s birthday?” Louis inquires, pulling the shirt over his head and onto his body, smoothing it out.

“Well, last week I mentioned to him that we should get tattoos, like, it’s an important birthday, he’s turning 30, and you need to do something that you’ll remember. Tattoos stay on your body forever, so he’ll never be able to forget it, which is why I suggested tattoos. Anyway, I don’t really know what else to get him, since I’m going to throw him a little birthday dinner and I thought, well, why not pay for his tattoo. We could both get tats and go half on his. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Does he even want a tattoo?” Louis asks, snatching a pair of shoes off the ground and slipping them on, not bothering to get a pair of socks.

“Let’s go find out,” Harry says, grabbing Louis by the arm while he crawls off the bed. He yanks him out of their apartment, locking the door behind them, and dragging Louis to Nick’s door.

There’s music drifting through the wooden barrier, something horrible and shitty that Nick probably found in the back woods hell of youtube so he can continue being a hipster snob. It sounds terrible and Louis wants it to stop, so he bangs his fist against the door, hitting it repeatedly until the music stops.

“Louis,” Harry says, grabbing Louis’ hand and lowering it down to his side. “Don’t make him mad, okay? We’re taking him out for his birthday, a very important birthday, and I don’t want anything to be ruined for him, okay?”

Louis rolls his eyes, because he’s not a fucking idiot. He can behave himself, even around Nick Grimshaw. Louis shakes his head at him, opening his mouth to reply when the door suddenly swings open.

“Hello, Nicholas,” Louis says, turning away from Harry to smile sweetly at Nick. He’s wearing the Dr. Dre shirt that Louis threw at him the week before, the one he thought was Harry’s. His hair is standing up in the most annoying way possible and Louis wants to shove him against the wall and smack him around a little. “We weren’t interrupting anything were we? It was hard to hear if you were busy or not.”

Louis can see Nick swallow, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Louis, like he’s worried Louis is going to mention something about how they heard each other the week before. He’s not going to, he’s not stupid. If Harry ever found out that they got off just from hearing each other, he’d begin planning their wedding or something even more dreadful.

“No, actually,” Nick says, closing the door a little so it’s revealing only his body. “I was just calling around to see if anyone wanted to do anything, but I’m sure I’ll be busy in about five minutes, just need someone who’s free to reply to me. It’s just a matter of waiting, that’s all.”

“We're free,” Harry says, nodding his head. “We actually wanted to come over here and invite you out, we thought today would be the perfect day to give you your birthday present.”

Nick’s eyebrow rises in interest, and Louis rolls his eyes, because Nick is only ever interested if it’s about him, and of course, his birthday is probably his favorite day of the year.

“What did you have in mind?” Nick questions, pulling his door open and allowing the two of them to enter.

Louis shoves past Nick, smiling when Puppy starts barking, her little body wagging briefly before she dives off the back of the couch to greet Louis. She spins in circles around him before she drops down onto her back, holding her leg up and begging for a belly rub. “That’s a girl,” Louis coos, reaching down to scratch along her fur.

“Was this the gift?” Nick asks. “The betrayal of my dog? Because if so, I’m going to have to request that you leave, preferably now, thank you.”

“No, it’s tattoos,” Harry shouts before Louis can answer. Louis turns around and glares at him over his shoulder, continues to pet Puppy. “Louis and I wanted to treat you to best friend tattoos. We’re going to pay for you, and tomorrow we’re having a little get together, my treat, but tonight, we’re doing tattoos. Isn’t that great? The three of us with best friend tattoos. What should we get?”

“All right,” Nick says, shrugging his shoulders. “Let me just get my shoes on and then we can go.”

“We should get something sick, like a slice of bacon, because we all like bacon, or we could get a tattoo of, like, a monkey in a top hat,” Harry says, his eyes squinted as he stares up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “I’ve been wanting to get a snail, it’ll be symbolic of the way I talk. Everyone says I talk slow, so a snail would be witty, right? We could get best friend snails.”

“Harry, no,” Nick and Louis say at the exact same time.

~~~~~

There’s a tattoo parlor three blocks away from their apartment, the one Harry always goes to when the tattoo jar he keeps in his kitchen is full, meaning he’s allowed to get another one. They opt to walk there, moving together in sync as they navigate their way through town.

“Do you know what you’re going to get yet?” Harry inquires, trying to make conversation.

It’s awkward, Nick can feel it and he hopes that Harry can’t, because Nick doesn’t want to explain that he masturbated to the sound of Louis either having sex or wanking, and he definitely doesn’t want to say that he’s been doing it all week as well, but to the memory of Louis’ moans. He doesn’t want to say it and he doesn’t trust that Louis won’t say anything about it.

Nick feels dirty, and it’s the reason he hasn’t allowed himself near Harry or Louis for an entire week. He knew it wouldn’t last forever, not with his birthday being tomorrow and Harry having planned for them to have a dinner.

“I was thinking of getting a tic-tac-toe game down on my arm, right here,” Louis says, pointing at a patch of skin just underneath his bird tattoo.

“How clever,” Nick comments, running his hand through his hair, messing it up and not caring, it’s not like he’s with anyone that gives a shit what he looks like. The only thing he’s worried about is Louis and his inability to not make a comment about Nick’s appearance every three seconds.

“Oh, what are you going to get? A picture of your face on your flat ass,” Louis says, turning to look at Nick expectantly. “Hmm? Let’s hear it, come on.”

Nick chooses to ignore the comment about his butt, because it’s a perfectly lovely butt, thank you very much. We can’t all be blessed like Louis is with a perfectly perfect bottom. “Don’t know,” Nick replies, staring ahead of them. “Think I might get Bart Simpson on my arm.”

He looks over to see Louis roll his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his face.

They’re rounding the corner to the tattoo parlor an odd feeling settling in Nick’s stomach at having made Louis smile and not retort back with some smart-ass comment.

“I still think we should get best friend tattoos,” Harry says, wistfully as he pushes open the door.

Nick rolls his eyes as he grabs the top of the door over Louis’ head, holding it open and allowing him in. The last thing in the world Nick wants to do is get matching best friend tattoos like they’re teenage girls with flimsy little bracelets. He loves Harry, loves him like he’s the little brother he never had, but he’s never going to get a best friend tattoo, especially not with Louis Tomlinson.

~~~~~

Nick’s tattoo barely takes five minutes. It’s a small triangle on his upper forearm. He doesn’t tell Harry what he’s getting, absolutely refusing to get a best friend snail on his arm for the rest of his life, and as he heads towards the chair Harry’s sitting in, he hopes that Harry changed his mind.

“Don’t be angry,” Harry says when Nick is a few feet away. “I changed my mind.”

“Yeah?” Nick asks, raising an eyebrow. “And what did you change your mind about?”

“I decided to cover my ‘I can’t change’ tattoo, as you can probably see,” he says, pointing at his wrist. Nick grabs the empty stool from the chair next to them, and slides in next to Harry. He can see that he’s getting the upper side of his wrist done, but the tattoo artist is bent over him, holding down Harry’s hand as he works. “I’m getting an anchor, it’s pretty cool, right? It’s, like, symbolic. Before I couldn’t change, but now I’m being held down. Hmm, I need to think about this a bit more.”

“You’re weird,” Nick says, crinkling his nose.

Harry smiles at him, wide and happy. “What’d you get?”

“Just a little triangle,” Nick says, shrugging his shoulders. He’s got a tiny bandage covering it, but he lifts up the corner and allows Harry to see the inked skin beneath. Harry smiles at it and nods his head in approval.

“That’s sick,” he says, winking. “What’s it for?”

Nick shrugs his shoulders. “Not really sure, just kind of liked the idea of it. I wanted something small and simple, heard it’s the symbol for a man. And I’m pretty manly, aren’t I?” Nick says, unbuttoning the top button of his pastel green shirt with the flowers all over it, he spreads the top bit apart to show off his chest hair, laughing when Harry pulls a face at him.

“Why are you so revolting?” Louis says and Nick glances over to see one of his pant legs rolled up, a bandage wrapped around his ankle. “There are people here; no one wants to see that.” He points in the direction of Nick’s chest and makes a face before he rolls his eyes. “You’re so gross.”

“Lovely to see you, too, darling,” Nick sings, batting his eyelashes at the boy, causing Louis to pretend gag before he looks way.

“What did you get?” Harry questions, excitedly, bouncing as much as he can for someone who’s not supposed to be moving.

Louis looks around for a place to rest his leg, looking thoughtful for a moment before he rests his foot on Nick’s thigh.

“Oh, help yourself,” Nick say, shaking his head.

Louis doesn’t answer, just lifts the bandage on his ankle to reveal a triangle tattoo, one identical to the one on Nick’s arm. Nick stares at him, refraining from reaching out and brushing his hand across the skin to see if it’s real. His stomach twists, fluttering as Louis rolls his pants back down to cover his ankle before removing his foot off Nick’s lap.

“Hey,” Harry says, sounding offended. His brow is furrowed as he stares at Louis’ tattoo. “That’s not fair. I thought we weren’t going to get matching tattoos.”

“What are you talking about?” Louis asks, staring at him in confusion. “You’re getting an anchor, that’s not a triangle, mate.”

Nick braces himself for it, flinching already before Harry has even replied, because Louis is about to flip the fuck out.

“You and Nick both got triangles. I thought we were getting our own tattoos?” Harry says. “Is it too late to turn this anchor into a triangle?”

The tattoo artist shakes his head and Nick can see that he’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t answer Harry, just dips the needle in more ink and gets back to work.

“What are you talking about?” Louis asks, staring at Harry.

“You and Nick got the same tattoo, same size even, just in different places. I’m hurt,” Harry says, pouting.

Louis turns to look at Nick, his eyes narrowing. “Let me see what’s under that bandage.” He points at Nick’s arm, waving his hand around when Nick moves slower than he wants.

Nick sighs, lifting the small bandage up slightly to show Louis the inked triangle on his arm. It’s honestly fucking laughable that they’d all go to three different artists in three different parts of the tattoo parlor and they’d somehow manage to get the exact same tattoo.

“You absolute fucking shit,” Louis says, shoving at Nick’s shoulder. “You were fucking listening to me talk to my artist, weren’t you? You’re a fucking nightmare. I was waiting for you to snap about last week, but getting the same tattoo as me? Are you serious? This is permanent, Nick. Fuck.” He rubs a hand through his hair, and while it should look messed up it just falls perfectly into place, and effortless look about it that annoys Nick immensely.

“We were on opposite sides of the building, how could I have known what you were doing?” Nick asks, his expression bored and he really wishes he were in a chair so he could lean back and cross his legs, let Louis know how tired he is of this conversation already.

He didn’t want a matching fucking tattoo with Louis Tomlinson, but the universe seems to hate him. The ink is already in his skin and unless he wants to spend hours of his life clawing at his skin, then there is nothing he can do about it, and fighting with Louis isn’t going to turn back the clock to change this all.

“You’re a fucking cheating spy. You’re horrible, honestly. You don’t retaliate for a week and now you’re telling me that this is just coincidence? Bullshit. Bull fucking shit. I hate you,” Louis says, glaring as he folds his arms over his chest.

Nick wants to laugh. Louis looks like a small child throwing a fit in the store over not being able to get candy. He’s so tiny and enraged, it’s almost comical watching him try and look threatening. Nick really wants to grab him by his collar and kiss the nasty fucking look right off his face, but instead he glares back, folding his own arms over his chest.

“It’s my birthday tomorrow, why would I want to ruin it by copying you?”

“You’re trying to make my life a living hell,” Louis accuses, his mouth open and eyes wide, like it should be fucking obvious to Nick why he would want to copy Louis, especially with something that is meant to memorialize his thirtieth birthday and will be forever marked on his skin, because of course this has to do with their stupid little prank war, or whatever the hell it is.

“I’m trying to make _your_ life a living hell? You leave passive aggressive notes on my door. No, not even just my door but on the front of the apartment building as well. You place notes where random strangers can read them. And you have the nerve to think that I want to ruin your life?”

“You’re thirty and you have freckles and a stupid little gap in your teeth. You’re an overgrown child trapped in an old man’s body and it’s horrific to witness. Horrific. It’s terrifying, truly terrifying. Appalling even. You’re appalling. I’m scared to leave the house, which is exactly why I put the note up in the front of the apartment building. The neighbors should be warned about the giant man boy living on the third floor with the stupid flower shirts and unruly patch of chest hair that’s trying to crawl out of itt, probably to strangle you, if I had to guess,” Louis says, huffing out a breath and folding his arms over his chest. “I’m trying to protect society.”

“You’re being a bit of an ass about it, love,” Nick says, risking a fall off his stool to cross his legs.

“You’re a nightmare, honestly. I don’t know how anyone can stand you. Stop looking at me,” Louis demands, pressing his fingers into Nick’s cheek so he can turn his face away. “And put that stupid chest hair away. I hate it.”

“You’re being an idiot, love,” Nick says, grabbing onto Louis’ hand and gently removing it from his cheek. He turns his head back to look at him, smiling up at him. “The tattoos were an accident, but you’re just being dense about it.”

“You’re being dense,” Louis replies, like the mature person that he is.

“This could go on a while,” Harry says. “And I think you’re both being thick, but you want to hear something cool?”

“Yeah, sure,” Nick says, shaking his head and rolling his shoulders back, trying to loosen his muscles and shake the exasperated feeling in his body. “What’s cool?”

“Yeah, tell me,” Louis says, smiling tightly. Nick’s sure that he’s trying to control his anger for Harry, the only person in the world that Louis isn’t a complete and utter monster to.

“We got best friend tattoos,” Harry says, smiling.

“Harry, please,” Louis says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t call these best friend tattoos.”

“No, no, listen,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Louis and I both have bird tattoos, that’s kind of like our best friend tattoo, even though they’re not the same. I’m getting an anchor and Nick already has one, this is kind of our best friend tattoo, and again, they’re not the same, but well it’s the same object, so it still works. And now you both have triangles, triangles that are the exact same as each other. They’re best friend tattoos. You’re both best friends now. Isn’t that cool?”

“Brilliant,” Nick says, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “It’s lovely. I’m overcome with joy.”

“I can second that,” Louis says, his tone just as sarcastic as Nick’s.

“See what the tattoos are doing? You’re already best friends,” Harry says, nodding his head in approval. He sighs. “You’re soul mates, aren’t you?”

“No,” Louis shouts at him.

The tattoo artist sighs, pulling the needle away from Harry’s skin. He looks like he’s using all of his willpower towards being patient, and Nick can sympathize, he’s feeling it too. He rests his head in his hand and listens as Harry and Louis argue about the meaning of the word soul mates and whether it applies to him and Louis or not.

~~~~~

“Another job application finished,” Louis says, closing his laptop and looking across the kitchen at Harry. “What are you doing?”

“Good luck and I’m finishing the icing on Nick’s cake. Do you think he likes chocolate?” Harry questions and Louis stands up from his chair and goes to stand next to Harry.

“I don’t really care,” Louis says, peeking around his shoulder to look at the cake Harry is making. It looks like it was bought at a store, with the chocolate icing on the surface and the fancy raised edges that Louis knows Harry loves to do when he ices a cake, but it’s covered in yellow flowers, three roses with green leaves. It looks fucking delicious. Harry’s finalizing the wording, a simple ‘Happy Birthday Nick’ on the top in a darker yellow. Louis reaches a hand out to try and steal a little icing, but Harry slaps his hand. “Ow.”

“You’ll get a slice later,” Harry says, setting the tube with the icing down on the counter. “It’s finished, what do you think?”

“It’s good, it looks great, but isn’t it a bit small? How many people did you invite?” Louis questions, lifting himself onto the counter next to the cake.

“Well,” Harry says, blushing slightly. “It’s kind of a funny story, and I really think you’re going to laugh.”

“What did you do?” Louis asks, narrowing his eyes at Harry, watching as his friend grabs the cake and walks it towards the fridge.

“I sort of only invited Niall and of course you, but definitely just Niall,” Harry says, biting his bottom lip. “I tried to invite Aimee, but she’s going with Ian to his parent’s house for the weekend, and I don’t know anyone else’s phone numbers, so I just invited Niall.”

“Who is Niall, first of all? I’ve never met any of Nick’s friend’s that are named Niall. Is he awful like Nick?” Louis inquires, trying to place the name to one of the hipsters he’s seen leaving Nick’s apartment, or one of the people at the god-awful parties Harry drags him to, the one with the expensive wine and distinct smell of people who think they’re better than they really are, a smell that follows Nick wherever he is.

“Niall, he’s the cute blonde that comes to the bakery,” Harry says, sighing dreamily. “He’s gorgeous.”

“I see, and does Nick know this Niall?”

“Well, no, um, not really, but someone else has to be there, right?” Harry asks. “And it’s not really fair, is it? You and Nick both get to have your soul mate there; I’d like to have the boy I pretend is mine there as well.” Harry folds his arms over his chest and looks defiantly at Louis, and Louis rolls his eyes, because he honestly looks like a kitten that’s just been told no after trying to get into something. And Louis honestly doesn’t have the energy to argue with Harry any longer about how he and Nick are not and never will be anything close to soul mates. They’d been awake until one in the morning arguing about it, shouting at each other from across the apartment until Nick texted him and said, _Pipe down, princess._ And then another shortly following that said: _go to sleep mate to my soul._ And that was the end of the soul mate conversation.

“Well, I’m sure Nick will love him there,” Louis sighs, shaking his head. “When are we going over there?”

“I’m going now, because I’m going to cook him dinner at his place and keep him company, he’s been alone all day, but you’re free to come over whenever you’re ready. Just remember to bring the cake, okay? It’s in the fridge so the icing can settle a bit more, but please remember it,” Harry begs.

“Yeah, whatever,” Louis says, shooing Harry with his hand to get out of here. Harry flashes him a smile and Louis listens as he leaves, the front door slamming closed behind him.

Louis sighs, shaking his head as he slides off the counter. He really, really doesn’t want to go to Nick’s apartment for the night. He really, really doesn’t want to sit down for dinner and pretend like he cares Nick’s becoming an even older man. He just doesn’t care. He’s already paid for half of Nick’s stupid triangle tattoo; the one Louis knows he got on purpose. He fucking knows that there is no way his and Nick’s minds could be connected for even a second long enough for them to come up with the same idea.

Louis pulls open the door to the fridge with every intention of getting himself something to drink, so he’s not sure what makes him stare at Nick’s cake intently enough for an idea to form in his mind, an incredibly horrific idea, but also a really clever idea. He grabs the cake, setting it back on the counter and does something he knows that he’ll regret, but if Nick can get the same tattoo as him in the name of their prank war, then he can do this.

~~~~~

Nick’s birthday is slightly; well, awkward is the best word for it. It’s his first time officially meeting Niall, the blonde having brought beer as a gift for Nick, even though it was just a standard pack for a get together, because apparently Harry didn’t tell him this was a birthday dinner, and so, after feeling obligated, he passed it to Nick with an easy smile and a shrug of his shoulders. Louis showed up as plates were being set on the table, a cake in his hands that Harry yelled at Nick to stop trying to take a peek at. It’s his cake; he should be allowed to have a little glimpse if he wants.

Harry’s made him his favorite meal, fish shashlik with an aubergine salad. It’s made to taste like Nick’s favorite dish from the posh restaurant on the other side of town. Nick’s torn between kissing Harry and crying because it tastes so fucking good. He loves it, it’s the best meal he’s had in ages, especially on his birthday, but he thinks Niall has him beat in showing Harry his love and appreciation for the meal.

Niall’s groaning around his fork, mouth full of food, completely sated from the meal alone. Harry’s staring at him with wide eyes, fork held halfway to his mouth as he listens to him. Nick’s doing everything he can to not laugh; he’s pinching his leg and trying his hardest to keep his mouth full of food or the beer Niall brought. Louis isn’t doing much better, his face twisted in an odd expression as he watches Niall.

“Oh god, this is the greatest meal I’ve ever had,” Niall groans for the fifth mouthful in a row. “Who’s the chef?”

Nick looks at Harry expectantly, but he’s still staring at Niall with his mouth-hung open wide. Nick kicks him gently in the ankle, causing Harry to jump. “What?”

“I said who’s the chef?” Niall repeats, laughing as he shakes his head at Harry.

“Oh, that’d be me,” Harry says.

“No shit?” Niall asks, nodding his head in approval. “I should have known, your pastries are the greatest part of my day, if I’m being honest with you. I definitely should have known you’d be amazing at other kinds of foods.”

“Wow, do you mean it?” Harry asks, a starry-eyed look to him. Nick rolls his own eyes as he takes another bite, wanting nothing more than to gag at the exchange between them. He chances a glance over at Louis to see him smirking at Nick, doing a little dance with his eyebrows that almost causes him to spit his food back out.

“Yeah, course I do,” Niall says, taking another bite of food. “Seriously, you’re amazing.”

Harry’s eyes light up and he turns to give Nick a look, one that reads pure and utter happiness. Nick smiles at him, nodding his head in Niall’s direction, trying to tell him to make a move on the other boy. Harry’s eyes widen and he looks between Nick and Niall to make sure that he’s not paying attention, when he sees that he’s not he nods his head, scooting his chair a little closer to Niall’s.

“I could, you know, make you a meal some time,” Harry says, staring at his plate and shooting Niall these little looks every other word. He’s blushing of course he is, he’s asking Niall out and on Nick’s birthday.

“Jesus,” Nick says, tossing his napkin down on the table and leaning back in his seat. He’s not full, but he wants to save room for the cake, and naturally, he wants to watch this train wreck.

“Yeah? You got a catering service or something?” Niall asks, licking bits of food off his fork.

“Well, no, but I could, um, cook for you, like, in a kitchen,” Harry says, tearing his eyes away from his plate to look at Niall. “I mean, if you want.”

“That’d be great, yeah,” Niall says, nodding his head. He puts another bit of food onto his fork and frowns, turning to look at Harry. “Does the bakery allow that kind of stuff? Like, do they normally let you bring people in to cook something else?”

“For god’s sake,” Nick says under his breath, shaking his head.

“He’s asking you on a date, oh my god,” Louis groans, placing his head in his hands.

“Louis,” Harry shouts incredulously.

“Oh,” Niall says, his mouth forming a little circle.

“Oh my god,” Harry says frantically, turning to look at Niall. “Don’t listen to him; he’s absolutely out of his mind. Last night, he got the same tattoo as Nick, just to make him angry.”

“I did not,” Louis shouts, outraged and annoyed. “We’ve been over this. Nick hid his impossibly large body and listened in while I told my artist what I wanted. He’s out to ruin my life.”

“I’m sure that’s what happened, Louis, I’m sure,” Harry says, nodding his head. “Honestly, Niall, he’s trying to make Nick crazy. I don’t know why, or what to do with it, but you can’t listen to him.”

“A date would be nice,” Niall says, interrupting Harry and Louis from arguing any further. Nick would have just let them go, he’d have sat back in his sit and finished his beer, offering Niall another one and possibly a slice of cake, but he wouldn’t have said anything to stop them. Niall’s probably a better person, if Nick had to guess.

“Oh,” Harry says, looking at Niall. He’s nodding his head, like he’s waiting for Niall to add a punch line, like it’s a joke or something, and when it never comes, he smiles. “Holy shit. You’re being serious?”

“Yeah, of course,” Niall says, shrugging his shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He looks confused and Nick rolls his eyes, for what feels like the millionth time during this dinner.

“Oh god, finally,” Louis groans, tossing his own napkin on the table and sitting back, just like Nick did not that long ago. “Can we eat dessert now? I need to do something before you two make me throw up.”

“Okay, yeah,” Harry says, still staring at Niall.

“I guess I’ll get it then,” Louis says, standing up and grabbing his plate.

“I’ll help you clean this up,” Nick says, grabbing his own plate and Harry’s.

Puppy scurries out from underneath the table, and Nick jumps in surprise, completely having forgotten she had burrowed herself underneath their feet in hopes that they’d be dropping food onto the ground. She scampers off after Louis, her little butt and tail wagging as she goes and Nick suppressed another eye roll, because that’s his dog, and she’s making very poor life choices.

Nick grabs Niall’s plate as well and follows Louis into the kitchen, dumping the plates into the sink right before he leans against the counter. “Just leave them, I’ll clean them later.”

“Wasn’t planning on washing them,” Louis informs him. “I just wanted to get away from the two of them.”

“You’re a gem,” Nick informs him, bopping him on the nose. “So, where’s my cake?”

Nick loves when things revolve around him, and sitting in a chair and listening to people sing just for him, no matter how awkward it is, is one of his favorite things in the world. And Harry and Louis have lovely voices, and this is one of the only times Nick can request Louis sing for him that won’t lead to suspicions from anyone.

Nick watches Louis as he turns around to get his cake out of the fridge, a slight sort of glee flooding through him. Despite how happy he is, he still can’t help but take a brief moment to enjoy the sight of Louis’ plump little bottom as he bends over. It is Nick’s birthday after all; he’s allowed to take such liberties.

“All right, you get the honors of removing the cover from it. I’m sure Harry will be upset he missed it, but we can act like he was too wrapped up in Niall to notice that we wanted him to come and see the cake unveil,” Louis reasons, setting the cake down on the counter. It’s on a black plate with a red cover over the top of it, a little half-circle thing that prevents Nick from being able to see what’s underneath.

Nick reaches out tentatively for the red cover, feeling giddy with excitement to see what’s underneath. Harry bakes the best sort of pastries and baked goods, and that was even before he got a job at the bakery, so Nick knows that whatever is underneath is going to be amazing. But upon reveal, Nick is slightly disappointed. It’s not the chocolate icing or the flowers; even though yellow has never really been his favorite color. The cake is lovely, honestly, but the frosted wording on top is what’s bothering Nick.

“It’s, well, it’s something.” Nick nods his head, he’s unsure of how exactly he’s supposed to react to the cake. He’s kind of glad that Harry isn’t in the room, the other boy would be completely miserable if he saw Nick right now.

“I thought ‘happy birthday’ was too mainstream for you, so I changed it,” Louis states, a smug expression on his face.

Nick nods his head carefully, reading ‘ _death is closer than ever’_ again as he nods his head. “And you baked the cake?” Nick inquires, because honestly, there is no fucking way he’s eating anything Louis bakes him, ever.

Louis simply smiles at him.

“I’d say you shouldn’t have but you literally shouldn’t have,” Nick says, smiling at him. “Does Harry know you did this?”

“Did what?” Nick hears Harry asks, followed by a weight on his shoulder, Harry’s head as he tries to peek over his shoulder. “That’s not what I wrote on it.”

“Fucking classic,” Niall croaks around a fitful of laughter and Nick rolls his eyes, because Niall is supposed to be on Harry’s side, who is supposed to be on his side.

“I thought it’d be funny,” Louis claims, shrugging his shoulders. “Niall thinks it’s funny.”

A murderous look flashes across Harry’s features, his eyes reduced to slits as he looks at Louis and Nick bites his tongue, figuring the look alone is enough words between the four of them. Nick settles for grabbing a knife and passing it to Harry so he can get ready to the cut the cake.

And later, when they’re singing happy birthday to him, Nick thinks about how he’s going to have to figure out how to get Louis back, not just for himself, but for Harry as well.

~~~~~

“Harry, come on,” Louis says, adjusting the bag of groceries in his arms as he tries to keep up with Harry’s long strides.

It’s the day after Nick’s birthday dinner, and Harry is downright furious at Louis for changing the words on Nick’s cake. Louis can admit that it was a low blow, to do something to Nick with Harry’s nice gesture, but it was funny, honestly. He just wanted to have a laugh, and Niall thought it was funny, but Louis refrains from reminding Harry of that point.

The remainder of the night yesterday had been fairly silent, the singing of the birthday song dull as they served the cake. It was mostly Niall who kept the conversation going, and Harry’s desire to make sure Nick had a good day, despite all the dirty looks he kept giving Louis.

They had gone to sleep that night without a word to each other, Louis feeling awful for what he had done, despite Nick’s text saying, _he won’t be mad forever. Xx_ And the one that followed closely after saying, _it would have been funny if you had done it to someone else, maybe then I’d have laughed! X._

It didn’t do anything to help Louis feel better, which is why he tagged along with Harry to the grocery store, trying his hardest to make him smile as they weaved in and out of the various aisles. Nothing has worked, and Louis is beginning to get desperate.

“Harry, please,” Louis begs.

“No, Louis. I’m irritated with you; please just let me be cross, okay?” Harry says, turning his head to look at Louis. It’s the first time he’s looked at Louis without glaring at him, and Louis takes it as a semi-sort-of win, because he’s desperate, and he’ll take anything, even Harry giving him a whack.

“Harry, it was just a joke. I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it. You’re more upset than Nick is, and it was his freaking cake,” Louis states, heaving the paper bag up a little higher. He regrets offering to take the bag with the canned goods inside of it, especially when they have an eight-block walk back to their apartment.

“Louis, it was a nice gesture. I was trying to do something for Nick’s birthday, his birthday, Louis. That’s a day dedicated to Nick, where everyone, even people who don’t like him, have to be nice to him. I baked him a cake, a lovely cake, and you took things too far. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, or why you have to keep trying to fuck things up for each other, but you went beyond what you should have. I’m really mad right now, Louis,” Harry sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says, following Harry up the steps towards their apartment building’s front door. He waits for Harry to unlock the door and they’re safely inside, climbing up the stairs to the top. “I’ll apologize to Nick, I promise. I can’t stand that you’re angry with me, so I’ll apologize.”

“Good,” Harry says, stomping his foot a little as they reach the landing on the third floor. “I think Nick would really appreciate it. He was up all night whining to me about it, he’s absolutely devastated you’d do that.”

Louis rolls his eyes, because he’s not going to tell Harry that Nick is a dirty rotten liar who had texted him to let him know that it was all right, and even leaving stupid, horribly offensive kisses at the end of his message. He’s not going to tell Harry that, because the last thing he needs is to make Harry angry again.

As soon as Harry has their front door unlocked Louis is falling into the apartment, his arms sore as he drops the back onto the couch, not even able to carry it far enough to reach the kitchen. “Oh god,” Louis groans, shaking his arms. “I really, really wish you would have forgiven me at the grocery store, because I don’t think I can feel my arms anymore.”

Harry smiles at him, dropping the keys into the bowl on the table next to the door. Louis tracks his movements, following his hand as it drops down to his side to let go of the keys, it’s not something he normally watches, but something on the table catches his eyes. He takes a step closer, tilting his head to the side as he tries to understand what’s different about the sitting. It doesn’t take long, because smiling up at him in the frame where Harry had a picture of him and his mother is a picture of Nick, his stupid, stupid smile and stupid, stupid eyes twinkling up at Louis.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, snatching the picture frame off the table to show Harry. “When did you decide we needed a framed picture of Nick in our house?”

“What are you talking about?” Harry says, the words spoken over his shoulder as he makes his way towards the kitchen to put the groceries away. “Hey, why’d you replace that picture of you and Zayn with one of Nick?” Harry turns around to look at Louis, a tiny smile spreading across his face. “You love him, don’t you?”

“Absolutely not,” Louis replies, stomping across the room to see what Harry’s talking about and sure enough, everything be damned, Nick is pouting up at him, his stupid thin lips pursed together in a stupid kissing face. “I don’t understand why this is happening.”

Louis glances across the room and as his eyes scan, he sees that every single framed photograph, artwork, poster, everything has been replaced with pictures of Nick, all of them different, whether in size or just in picture. There are 30 smiling pictures of Nick staring back at him, it’s enough to make him want to throw up on the carpet.

“His face is everywhere,” Louis shouts, spinning around to check the apartment. “How did he even get in here?”

“He has your key,” Harry says and Louis spins around, glaring at him. Harry bites him. “He said that he needed to pop in for a minute, wanted to borrow some of my records, but I was going to the store and you decided to come with me, so I gave him the key, that’s why I went over there before we left. I didn't think he’d want to add more art to the apartment, he didn’t say that.”

“Nick Grimshaw is not a work of art, watch your mouth,” Louis scolds. “I’m going to check my bedroom. He better not have touched anything in there, I’ll kill him.”

“Oh goodness,” Harry sighs, but Louis ignores him, making his way down the narrow hallway. His bedroom door is open, and he can’t remember if he left it open or not. He can, however, remember that he did not frame a picture of Nick shirtless on the beach and place it on his bedside table, or one of him kissing Puppy and stick it on his dresser, he remembers that both of them were pictures of his family. He sees that the one on his bedside table has writing across it, and against his better judgment he picks it up, checking to see what Nick wrote on it.

_For when we’re not having sex._

_With Love, Nick_

There are little hearts drawn around his face, one of them with ‘ _Nick+Louis 4ever’_ inside of it and Louis gags, wanting to throw up on Nick’s shitty fucking smiling face.

“I’m going to kill him,” he shouts to no one in particular, but part of him hopes that Nick is in his bedroom, listening through the walls. He absolutely hates him. “I hate him.”

“Louis, I thought you were going to apologize?” Harry calls back, his voice distant and quiet, not quiet enough that Louis can pretend he can’t hear it, but quiet enough that he can scoff under his breath and choose not to reply. “Louis!”

“Sorry, Harry. I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Louis shouts. He has absolutely no intentions of apologizing now, especially when it’s Nick who performed the last move. He’s going to have to get back at him, and now that he knows breaking into apartments isn’t against the rules, he figures he’s going to have to make a little visit.

Tomorrow. While he’s at work, Louis thinks.

~~~~~

Nick sits in his bedroom, ear pressed against the wall, laughing as he listens to Louis and Harry argue about what they’re going to do with all of the pictures Nick placed around their apartment, and how they’re going to get him back at him. He feels a bit like a genius, having finally done something to properly get underneath Louis’ skin.

He grabs his phone off the end table next to his bed, thumbing it unlocked and pulling open a message for Louis. He writes, _love you, darling! I hope you like the gifts <3._

Nick locks his phone before setting it back on the night stand and waits, because he’s sure Louis isn’t going to reply. And sure enough, not even a minute later he hears something being thrown at his wall from inside Harry and Louis’ apartment.

“You’re a dick,” Louis shouts.

Nick laughs once more, feeling a bit like a mastermind of some kind, the kind that’s excellent at pissing Louis off, and gets into bed, ready for whatever note will be taped to his apartment the next morning.

~~~~~

There’s no note when he wakes up in the morning, no bucket filled with acid hung over his door as he heads to work.

There’s not a note when he gets home, climbing the stairs with his back pressed against the wall and ears tuned in to every sound imaginable, waiting for Louis to strike.

There’s no note when he takes Puppy for a walk and when they get home.

He spends the day in high alert, jumping at every sound and grabbing the nearest object, ready to defend his self from whatever might happen. But nothing comes, and he’s no idea what to expect from Louis, because he can’t just put fifty pictures of himself in someone else’s apartment as a prank and not expect some kind of retaliation, especially if said someone else is _Louis_.

They’ve been going back and forth for a week, and it’s not, well, it should be alarming that Louis hasn’t done anything today. He doesn’t even know what to do with himself, because his shoulders are knotted with tension, and all of his muscles are clenched in anticipation of what’s to come.

He refuses to let his guard down. He’s not going to let Louis blindside him, not this time, not after replacing his family portraits with his selfies. Louis wants his blood, and he has to be prepared for anything.

~~~~~

Nick’s just finished dinner and is cleaning up the mess when his head starts to hurt. He’s not sure what brings about the headache, whether it’s the lack of sleep from staying awake all night, trying to catch Louis before he could prank him, or it could be from turning all of his lights on, trying to keep the place bright to alert Louis that he was in fact home, if he happened to try to sneak in or walk past his apartment outside. Whatever the cause, his head is aching; throbbing really, so he dries his hands and reaches into the cabinet he keeps his assortment of pills. He thinks two should do it, or so he hopes. He swallows them and chases it with a bit of water, cupping his hand under the running water of the sink for a drink.

It’s nearly eight, and with nothing left to do for the night, he decides to put on a film, an old French one in black and white with subtitles. In order to get into the mood of the movie, he shuts off his kitchen lights and leaves just the lamp on in the living room.

Puppy jumps off the couch just as he’s pressing play on the movie, dragging herself lazily towards her bed in the corner, leaving Nick enough room to stretch across the entire surface of the couch, his legs draped over the arm of the couch, feet dangling in midair.

The movie is just enough to make Nick feel sleepy, a heavy weighted feeling in his legs that leave them tingling. His head still aches, but it is no longer sharp and intense, but rather a dull ache right behind his eyes. He’s fucking exhausted, but he’s been dying to see this film for ages, since he bought it two months back on a sketchy internet site, so he tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, even moving to sit up, to help keep himself awake and to stop the tingling sensation in his legs.

It’s twenty minutes until the end of the movie and he can feel his dick beginning to perk up, a steady ache, as he gets hard. He’s not aroused; nothing surrounding him is even remotely stimulating. The film, he thinks, is some kind of love story set at sea with a whiny blonde fighting the advances of a man that Nick would give a rating of a four to. He has absolutely no fucking idea why, now of all times, he’d have an erection, but he does.

Nick’s boxers are tented, his dick threatening to peek out of the slit in his boxers. His dick and his head are throbbing, completely aching in the most painful way, but for two very different reasons. Nick shuts the movie off and heads to his kitchen, pressing the palm of his hand into his dick with a groan, the pressure making it a bit more bearable. He needs to get something for his head and then he can figure out what to do with his dick.

He grabs the pill bottle out of the cabinet and pours some into his hand, aiming for only one but managing to get four of them. He stares down at them in confusion, because in his hand are four circular pills, they’re not complete circles, but rather like a squashed diamond, which is odd because the pills he uses for his headaches are white and long and definitely, without a doubt, not these pills in his hands.

Nick’s not sure what he has in his hand, so he pulls out his phone and searches ‘blue pills’. A lot of searches come up, a lot of different pictures of blue medication that people take for all sorts of things, but he manages to find an image of some that look exactly like the ones in his hand, ones that help erectile dysfunction. The pills are blue, but Nick sees red, his entire body shaking with fury.

He tosses the pills into his sink, listening as they clatter against the metal and drop down the drain.

Nick’s been waiting patiently for Louis to strike back, and the little blue pills down his drain have his name written all over them. Nick’s not a genius, by any stretch of the word, but he knows, he without a doubt knows that he did not and has not bought any kind of erectile dysfunction aid, nor would he place it inside of a pill bottle meant for something else even if he had.

Nick exits out of his Internet browser and heads to his address book, scrolling down until he reaches Louis’ name. He presses down on the contact harshly with his thumb and puts the phone to his ear. Each ring causes Nick’s blood pressure to rise, a difficult task being as that all the blood in his body is currently located in his cock.

He’s getting ready to hang up, Louis showing no signs of answering when the little fucking monster in question finally picks up.

“Hello, Nicholas, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Louis chirps in the receiver, his voice saccharine, almost to the point where Nick wants to crush the phone in his hand.

“You changed my pills to Viagra,” Nick grits out, fist clenching onto his phone tightly. He doesn’t see a point in playing into Louis game, he doesn’t have time for banter or games, his fucking dick is throbbing, and it feels like it’s only getting harder, if that’s even possible.

“Yes, I think I did, Grimshaw. Why? I mean, it’s only a problem if your erection last more than four hours, or at least that’s what the bottle said. You can check it, it’s in your trash,” Louis snickers, his voice giving away how much amusement he finds in the situation. “Did you call to let me know that you were having a problem and needed help with it?” Louis chuckles, obviously finding his joke hilarious.

Nick smirks, liking the sound of Louis offering to help him with an erection. It is his fault, after all, that Nick is hard in the first place, so it makes sense that he should be the one to fix it. Nick didn’t think that the next time he sported a hard on for Louis Tomlinson would be the result of pills and not the result of his ample, ass or supple tongue, anything really, but he’s willing to take what he can get, and Louis seems to be offering it on a silver platter.

“Oh, so you’d like to help?” Nick replies, unable to hide the smile in his voice. “I’m three and a half hours shy of the four hour limit, but I’d love a hand in fixing this, or an ass, whatever you’re offering, love.”

Louis’ quiet for a moment, just the sound of his breathing in Nick’s ear before he says, “Fuck off, Grimshaw” and hangs up promptly.

Fuck, Nick thinks, setting his phone down on the counter and staring at the tented fabric draping over his rock hard dick. He’s not even the least bit turned on, and he has no fucking idea what to do with this thing and how to make it go away.

~~~~~

Nick’s laying on his stomach in his bedroom, trying his hardest to think of the least sexy thoughts he can muster, like his grandmother, the sex he had with a girl in college, green beans, cleaning up after Puppy when she’s relieved herself, absolutely fucking anything, but his dick will not soften.

He’s miserable, completely and utterly miserable. His cock is throbbing, and he’s not in the mood to do anything about it, and not for lack of trying, because he did. He tried his absolute hardest to make himself come, but nothing has worked. He even got his laptop out to try and watch a little porn, and nothing about the twinks on the screen had done it for him, probably because his mind is on the ultimate little shit of a twink that did this to him. He fucking hates Louis Tomlinson, hates him more than he’s ever hated anyone.

He’s not sure if there was a line to their prank war, but he thinks Louis crossed it with the Viagra. He can’t feel a thing besides the steady throbbing in his dick. He feels like a sack of shit, moaning and groaning into his pillow as he tries to get relief. He’s moaning so loudly that he doesn’t hear his apartment door open, or the sound of someone walking down his hall until his bedroom door is being slammed open. He rolls onto his back, propping his head up to see Louis staring down at him, and by him, he’s definitely thinking it’s his dick, not his face.

“How the hell do you keep getting in here?” Nick asks, not bothering to cover himself up, because Louis knows what an erection is and he knows what Nick’s dick looks like, so there really isn’t any point in modesty. He’s wearing a shirt and boxers, he doesn’t need much else, at least he’s covered.

“Harry’s got your spare, dumbass. How do you think I broke in to do the switch on your pills? Louis says, throwing the key on top of Nick’s dresser.

“Well, thank you for bringing it back, but you can leave now. I’d rather wallow in my own misery in peace, thank you,” Nick says, shooing Louis with his hand.

Louis rolls his eyes at him and toes off his shoes, kicking them and causing them to clatter across the hardwood floors.

“What are you doing?” Nick questions, watching Louis as he crawls onto the bed, sitting in between Nick’s legs, his own legs tucked underneath him so he’s sitting on his feet.

“Harry reckons there’s some kind of subliminal messaging here, like I got you hard because I wanted to fuck you.” He reaches out and wraps his hand around Nick’s ankle, rubbing his thumb along the skin. “He also supposes that maybe I’m shit at apologizes and this is my way of giving one, because he thinks the greatest way of letting you know I’m sorry is by sucking your dick,” Louis says, gripping onto Nick’s ankle a little tighter.

Nick stares at him, taking in the way Louis is biting his lip as he stares at him. He looks scared, and a little insecure, like he’s actually worried about what Nick is going to do now that they’re in this situation. The ball is in Nick’s court, and he’s got two options. He can both reject Louis and send him off into a rage that’ll continue this brainless prank war, or he can see the waving of a white flag when it’s right in front of his face and accept the apology, ending this thing entirely with Louis’ mouth wrapped around his cock.

Louis really is shit at apologies, but Nick’s dick seems to like it, and with all the blood located in his lower half, he can’t get his brain to see if or why this could be a bad idea, so he finds himself nodding his head and situating himself so he’s resting up on his elbows.

“If I let you suck me off, will you stop being a miserable little twat all the time?”

“Probably not,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “But I won’t leave anymore notes on your door and I won’t force you to take Viagra again, which I mean, that’s got to count for something, right?” Louis grins at him, sliding his hand from Nick’s ankle to his knee, gently pushing them open and crawling further between them. “So are you going to let me suck you off or not?”

“Depends,” Nick says, trying his best to sound like he’s not fucking desperate for it. “Do you _want_ to suck my cock?”

Louis rolls his eyes and tugs down the waistband of Nick’s underwear, they don’t go far, making it to his thighs before Louis is leaning down and licking tentatively at the tip before his mouth falls open and he pushes down, Nick’s dick disappearing inside of him.

Nick groans, throwing his head back because this is something that his dick can get into, the feeling of Louis’ tongue along the underside of his dick, licking and sucking, and hollowing his cheeks until Nick is squirming.

Louis’ eyes are watering as he takes more of Nick in and Nick’s head is spinning, he feels light headed at the sight. He was drunk the last time he did this and now, seeing it in a conscious state of mind, he doesn't think that he could ever want to do this again when he can’t remember, because Louis is fucking beautiful when he sucks dick. His cheeks are stained red; his lips swollen and raw as they’re wrapped around him with spit and pre-come dribbling down his chin. It’s fucking gorgeous, and Nick, ever so desperately, wants to be inside of him.

“You planned this didn’t you?” Nick groans, biting onto his lip. “Fuck.”

Louis pulls off with a pop, a little trail of spit connecting his mouth to Nick still. “You don’t ever shut the fuck up, do you?” He says, wrapping his small hand around Nick’s dick.

“I want to fuck you,” Nick says as explanation, because it’s the only coherent thought that he can get out of his head. It’s like his dick has taken over his sense and all he can think about is fucking Louis, all he can see is himself fucking Louis, all he can smell is Louis. His dick is still so fucking hard, and he wants nothing more than to watch it sink inside of Louis, disappearing from sight. “Can I fuck you, please?”

Louis stills his motions, nodding his head as he scrambles out of bed, pulling his shirt over his head and getting undressed. Nick moves lazily, shrugging out of his own shirt and kicking off his boxers.

He can see that Louis is hard, his dick raised in the air as he bounces on his feet, staring at Nick like he’s not sure what to do with himself now that he’s naked and his mouth is no longer around Nick’s dick.

“Lie down,” Nick instructs, rolling over to make more room for Louis as he gets lube and a condom out from his drawer. “Hurry up, love. I’ve been hard for two fucking hours thanks to you, don’t really fancy myself waiting anymore.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Louis says, lying on his back, his head and upper back propped up on top of Nick’s pillows. He’s got his legs spread wide, hand wrapped around his dick as he smiles at Nick. “Thought you didn’t want to wait.”

“Shut up,” Nick grumbles, climbing in between his legs. He slaps Louis’ hands off his dick, because he was hard for two hours without relief and he should have fucking come by now, but he’s being courteous and thinking of Louis and not just himself. He’s not a complete and utter shithead, not like Louis’ thinks anyway.

Nick works him open slowly, pressing one finger in gently and carefully, watching Louis’ face for any signs of discomfort.

“Stop fucking looking at me,” Louis says, reaching up and pulling Nick down into a kiss, crashing their lips together and working his tongue into Nick’s mouth. He slides another finger inside of him, scissoring him open while Louis moans into his mouth, wrapping his hands around Nick’s head and pulling him closer. Nick can taste a bit of himself on Louis’ tongue, but mostly he tastes like want and desire.

When he adds a third finger Louis breaks the kiss, pulling away with a gasp and Nick redirects his attention to Louis’ neck, pressing his lips to his skin, licking and kissing as Louis rocks his hips up, grinding down onto his hand.

“Can you hurry the fuck up?” Louis pants, and Nick likes to see him like this, likes the way he begs for it, even if it’s in the form of bossy questions.

“Just a while longer, princess,” Nick coos, sucking a mark onto Louis’ skin, at the meeting place of his neck and shoulder. He continues to suck at his skin as he works Louis open, pressing deeper inside of him and crooking his fingers until Louis cries out and pushes down on them, a shaky breath leaving his mouth.

Nick pulls his fingers out, leaning over the bed to wipe them on a bit of the sheets that he won’t be lying on for the night, and uses his teeth to break open the condom package. He’s careful with it, easing it out before he rolls it onto his dick, hissing as he grazes his throbbing, sensitive skin.

He’s generous with the lube, not sure about the last time that Louis has done this, and he doesn’t want it to hurt.

“You’re so fucking slow,” Louis groans, watching as Nick positions himself, pushing Louis’ knees up to his chest. “My ass is fucking lovely; I know, now stop staring at it and do something.”

Nick rolls his eyes because of course, of fucking course; Louis is a bossy little shit during sex. Nick should have known, he actually should have made Louis make him come during the blow job and ended it with that, but Nick’s generous, always thinking of other people, and right now he’s thinking of Louis, so instead of biting back with a snarky remark, he shuts Louis by pushing inside of him, slowly and carefully until he’s bottoming out.

“About time,” Louis pants followed by a groan when Nick rocks his hips forward a bit.

“Do you ever shut up?” Nick asks, pulling out slowly. “All you ever do is talk, maybe if you’d shut up,” he snaps his hips forward, “you’d get what you want. Maybe though.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, just bites his lip and grasps Nick’s hands, clutching them tightly. Louis is begging him to keep going, to fuck into him harder and faster, and Nick does as he says, feeling like he should have known Louis would still be a mouthy little shit during sex. His body is finally beginning to feel some kind of relief, like the pills he took were waiting for him to be inside of someone and not just fucking into his fist in the bathroom with a quiet sort of desperation.

He wants to press bruises into Louis’ hips, but the other boy has them in a grip that Nick doesn’t want to try and fight. He leans down and kisses him, breathing into his mouth, the kiss wet and sloppy.

“Why are you so fucking tight?” Nick mumbles, his dick feels like its being suffocated, the movement being slowed down with how tight Louis is. It makes his fucking head spin. He had meant to ask why he was so annoying, but his brain has been deprived of blood supply for hours, and he’s thinking with his dick.

“Oh god, just shut up,” Louis groans, biting on Nick’s bottom lip, pulling on it. “Fuck, I need more, please. So close, Nick.”

Nick nods his head and works harder, snapping his hips as fast as he can, his dick rubbing against Louis' prostate with every thrust. Nick pulls away from the kiss, staring down at Louis and waiting until he hears the sharp intake of breath and Louis is clamping down around him, releasing a deep, guttural moan into the air, his fingers tightening their hold on his own. He watches with a sick fascination as Louis comes onto both of their stomachs until he can feel his own stomach knotting and then his orgasm rips through him like a tidal wave, pulling all of his energy out of his body as he releases into the condom.

He thrusts into Louis once and twice more before he’s pulling out, listening to Louis release a tiny whine that he’s sure he’ll deny later if Nick brings it up, and pulling off the condom, knotting it up and tossing it in the trashcan next to his nightstand.

Nick lies on his back, panting, and feeling as though his blood finally starts returning to the rest of his body.

“Holy fucking shit,” Louis says, breaking the silence. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, unsure if Louis is really enthusiastic about the sex they just had or if he’s freaking out, but either way Nick can get down with both of those. He really enjoyed the sex, like really, really enjoyed it, but as soon as he’s come down from his high he thinks he could probably have a moment of panic, probably, if he wasn’t so tired.

He closes his eyes, and listens to the sound of fabric rubbing against his mattress until there is a weight settled against his side. Nick throws his arm to the side, allowing Louis to rest his head on top of it. He’s always heard Harry claim that Louis is the cuddliest person in the world, but Nick’s never had the chance to see it. Louis has always had his claws out around Nick, but now, he has nowhere to hide, no need for a defense against him, but he’s still not showing any signs of cuddling in closer, so Nick takes the first step and rolls onto his side, adjusting the pillows beneath his head and throws an arm over Louis’ chest.

They lie there together in silence, listening to the sound of each other breathing. They should definitely get cleaned up, but Nick’s sated and sleepy, ready to call it a night with Louis scooting closer to him as his fingers dance across his chest. He releases a deep breath, sighing as he leans forward to press a kiss to Louis’ shoulder, underneath his hand Louis’ heart rate picks up, with a sudden spike in its beating.

“What are you thinking about?” Nick kisses his skin again to feel as Louis’ heart beat picks up, beginning to race. He wonders if that’s his doing, if being intimate like this with him could do that for Louis, could make him feel so good with just a touch that his heart would race.

“Netflix,” Louis answers right away and without hesitation.

“Oh,” Nick says, his fingers ceasing their movements along Louis’ chest. “Okay. Um, it’s just your heart was racing for a moment, so I thought… Never mind.” He shakes his head, because for a moment, he honestly thought that he could have done that for Louis.

Louis laughs, reaching over, he pinches Nick’s nipple. Nick shouts, slapping at his hand and groaning, because why can’t Louis ever just cooperate with him?

“I think I like you more with my eyes closed,” Nick says, draping his arm over his eyes. He’s still out of breath, his orgasm wearing him out completely. Honestly, he thought it would be worse after waiting two hours for relief.

Louis jabs him in the ribs, his bony finger digging in between the bones. “Open your fucking eyes and face the facts, grandpa,” Louis says, and Nick huffs, feeling as Louis moves from lying next to him to straddling his waist.

Nick removes his arm from over his eyes and sees Louis smiling down at him. They’re both gross, covered in sweat and Louis’ come, but he looks fucking beautiful and Nick reaches up, pulling him down and kissing him, a soft movement of their mouths and the gentle touch of their tongues.

~~~~~

Nick makes Louis clean him off, grumbling about how his body still needs time for the blood to circulate, it’s been hours after all. Louis just rolls his eyes at him and climbs out of bed, his middle finger raised over his shoulder when Nick slaps him on the ass as he goes.

Nick should take the opportunity to change the sheets, but he’s tired, and he genuinely cannot find it in him to care. His room smells like sex, the scent of sweat overpowering his nostrils, but again, he’s too tired to climb out of bed and do anything about it. He doesn’t really mind it, not really, but it does create a cloud of humidity over his body as he lies on his back waiting for Louis.

Louis enters his bedroom with a damp cloth, his own body clean already, and he uses it to wipe the traces of his come off Nick’s stomach. Nick smiles at him in a blissed out haze, feeling like he’s floating on a cloud, watching as Louis throws the cloth in Nick’s dirty clothes basket before he disappears again. Nick frowns as he goes, wondering what he might have wandered off to do. He can see as lights are shut off along the way until his apartment is completely black.

When he comes back he’s wearing Nick’s Dre shirt, the one he wore by mistake the week prior, and nothing else. Nick doesn’t remember leaving it out there; he also doesn’t remember giving Louis permission to put his clothes on, even if he doesn’t mind.

Louis flicks off the lamp next to the bed before he climbs inside of it, pulling the blankets up over them before he burrows down, snuggling up against Nick’s side. He tosses his leg over Nick’s, shoving the other one underneath until one of Nick’s legs is slightly bent up. He rests his head on Nick’s shoulder and throws his arm over his stomach, sighing as he settles down.

He’s still hot and sticky from the sex, but he likes having Louis pressed against his side, a soft weight resting against him that hasn’t been there in a while. He likes this side of Louis; the soft, gentle side of him that wants to cuddle Nick instead of argue and fight with him. He doesn’t want either of those things from Louis right now; he wants to fall asleep with his fingers brushing through Louis’ hair, scratching at his scalp as he continues to hum those tiny happy noises into his ear.

Nick thinks he could get used to it, if Louis were willing to make it a repeat kind of thing. He doesn’t care about asking, not right now. Not when they’ve moved past angry actions and insulting words to playful banter and remarkable sex. He thinks he can save that conversation for another time; tonight he wants to sleep, and for once feel grateful that his dick is no longer hard.

Nick hates sleeping alone, always has, so he likes having Louis here, even as he tries to smother him with his body. He feels a quiet sort of contentment sink into his body, spreading from his toes to his chest to his ears, filling him up completely as he lays here, little puffs of Louis’ breath against his neck.

“Sweet dreams, Louis,” Nick says, wrapping his arm around his back and pulling him close, the smaller boy melting into his side.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Nicholas,” Louis grumbles, his voice is quiet and riddled with sleep, but he still manages to make it sound fierce. He presses his elbow further into Nick’s ribcage, and tightens his grip around Nick’s torso before sighing happily, pressing a kiss to Nick’s neck. “Night, Nick.”

Nick never thought he’d be so fucking happy to have started a prank war with Louis, but right here in this moment, right after they’ve had sex, Nick can’t imagine anything better. Except possibly for sleep, so he closes his eyes and drifts off, his last coherent thought that for once he doesn’t have to go to sleep wondering what Louis might try to do to him when his guard is down.

~~~~~

In the morning Nick wakes up to Louis straddling his waist, a sharpie in hand and his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration as he draws on Nick’s face. Nick just sighs and lets him finish, happy that nothing has changed between them.

“Good morning,” Nick croaks, sliding his fingers under Louis’ wrists so he can rub at his eyes, yawning silently as Louis pulls the marker away from his skin. He smiles at him, capping the marker before tossing it onto the floor, with a fairly loud clatter for such an early part of the morning.

“You’re worthless,” Louis answers, a glint in his eyes as he leans down to press a kiss to Nick’s lips. “Good morning.”

“You’re an angel in the morning, darling, really. You’re far too kind to me,” Nick mumbles, tapping Louis’ thighs with his hands. He crawls off of him and sits on the bed next to him. He’s still wearing Nick’s Dr. Dre shirt, but now he’s got a pair of Nick’s sweatpants on bottom, rolled up at the waist like they’re too long for him. “Since you’re already on a roll, I’m willing to bet you didn’t make coffee, tea, or anything really. Here I am thirty and starving.”

“Nope,” Louis says, shaking his head. “Been waiting for you to wake up. I like my tea with nothing in it, not even a drop of milk, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” Nick replies, getting out of bed carefully. He turns back around to smile at Louis, winking at him when he sees Louis’ glare. “I need to get dressed; can you at least start the water? Then I can make you the world’s largest breakfast, or we can go and bother Harry until he makes us something,” Nick says.

Louis nods his head in agreement, climbing out of bed and bouncing out of the room. Nick watches him go before he grabs a change of clothes and heads into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He sets his clothes down on the counter and breathes, because he feels like he hasn’t remembered to do so in a while.

Nick glances up in the mirror to see dicks drawn on both of his cheeks, a curly sort of mustache on his upper lip, and the words ‘I’m a prick’ along his forehead. He stares at it for a moment before he sighs, grabbing a clean cloth from under the sink and tossing it in the basin, and waiting for it to get wet.

Nick stares the cloth, watching as it slowly gets darker from contact with the water, and wonders how exactly he's going to get Louis back for this one.

**Author's Note:**

> If you managed to get to the end, congrats! I hope you enjoyed this, and feedback is very much appreciated.
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](http://www.alnimawrites.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me about this or anything :).
> 
> Here are the various posts that made appearances in this fic! (the ones I didn't think of, and the ones I didn't lose) 
> 
> [x](http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5emzmW0yr1qc6cx5o1_500.png), [x](http://38.media.tumblr.com/bd5797b849e406ddfd478debed3aa840/tumblr_mwde9sF7rv1sb1ox5o1_500.jpg), [x](http://38.media.tumblr.com/b7e3e0b0ea52f34c6bea56f7a6492ef3/tumblr_myzz4oFjg81rboqfio1_500.jpg), [x](http://38.media.tumblr.com/5f816c2050b1459feca1888e0727c0b1/tumblr_mzh4cu9EBd1r0kf0bo1_500.jpg), [x](http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lkoureAJPY1qjgu15o1_500.jpg), [x](https://31.media.tumblr.com/3a29f9119acdc5684faec48844aafc09/tumblr_inline_n7jv8kzKrq1refjkk.png), [x](http://31.media.tumblr.com/79011935b4de25efe182deed3042cad9/tumblr_n0x9rusjB61qfvbaxo1_500.jpg), [x](http://38.media.tumblr.com/77e8cfa0476aee01e34609b609462f9d/tumblr_n31hndJ5461sfelcko1_500.jpg), [x](https://31.media.tumblr.com/9e350a1a75daa1fdb8d27a1193cccc72/tumblr_n7jw3aWGfC1s4qm5oo1_500.png), [x](https://38.media.tumblr.com/571b28506d8038dbe46e43fe3300e1a7/tumblr_n7jw3aWGfC1s4qm5oo2_500.png), and [x](http://37.media.tumblr.com/14d5f859ae00e9eed6249bbfa09a9b0f/tumblr_mnj2rtNmHH1soaxpwo1_500.jpg)


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